O Bellerie Fountain

Poem by Pierre De Ronsard Collection OdesThemes HappinessPeriod 16th century

O Bellerie Fountain,
Beautiful fountain cherished
By our Nymphs, when your water
Hides them in the hollow of your spring,
Fleeing the little Satyr,
Who chases them in the race
To the edge of your stream,

You are the eternal Nymph
Of my ancestral land:
Therefore in this green little meadow
See your Poet who adorns you
With a little milk-fed kid,
Whose one and the other horn
Come out of its new little forehead.

In summer I sleep or rest
On your grass, where I compose,
Hidden under your green willows,
I know not what, that your glory
Will send through the universe,
Commanding Memory
That you live through my verses.

The heat of the Dog Days
Does not burn your green bank,
So much so that on all sides
Your shade is thick and dense
For shepherds coming from the folds,
For oxen weary from the plow,
And for the scattered cattle.

Io! you will be ceaselessly
The princess of fountains,
I celebrating the channel
Of the pierced rock, which shoots
With a hoarse noise
The water of your babbling spring
That prances along.

Pierre de Ronsard

Translation generated by Poésies 123 with assistance from the deepseek-chat artificial-intelligence model.

Text published on Poésies 123: https://www.poesies123.com/en/poem-o-bellerie-fountain-pierre-de-ronsard/