Stances

Poem by Pierre De Ronsard Collection Last Verses (Ronsard)Period 16th century

I have varied my life in unwinding the weft
That Clotho spun for me between sick and well,
Now health was lodged within my breast,
Then illness, extreme scourge of the soul.

Gout, already an old man, tormented my veins,
My muscles and my nerves, execrable pain,
Showing in a hundred ways through a hundred diverse sorrows
That man is nothing but the subject of misfortune.

One dies in his springtime, another awaits old age,
Death is all one, the accidents diverse:
Man’s true treasure is green youth,
The rest of our years are nothing but winters.

To preserve such wealth entire for a long time
Do not force your nature, but follow reason,
Flee love and wine, the matter of vices,
A great reward remains for you in the old season.

The youth of the Gods is not given to men
To squander its flower, as one sees fade
The rose through the heat, thus ill-governed
Youth flees without ever returning.

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-stances-pierre-de-ronsard/