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“” Well then! You, counselors of great companies,
Sons of Adam who gamble with both goods and lives,
Tell the truth, it is to God that you render account.
Do you render justice or do you sell it?
Rather, lawless souls, perjurers, disloyal,
Your scales, which are unequal scales,
Pervert the earth and pour out upon humans
Violence and ruin, works of your hands.
Your mothers conceived in the impure womb,
Then miscarried you all at once and of vice;
The lie that was your milk in the cradle
Nourished you in youth and feeds you to the grave.
They resemble the serpent with mottled skin
Of a transparent yellow, speckled with venom,
Or the asp concealed that watches while sleeping,
Armed with itself, covered in a swarming coil.
To the cunning asp this band is similar,
When with its tail it stops up its ear;
It, against the jargons of the skilled enchanter,
They, to drive from God the words into the wind.
To this flock, Lord, which stops up its ear,
Break the big teeth in their stinking mouth:
Take the rod of iron, smash with your flails
The stinking jaw of these proud young lions.
May, like water they melt, these proud ones melt;
In the camp their enemies without effort are confounded:
If they bend the bow, may the bow before shooting be tired,
May their arrows without striking fly into pieces.
May death, in their springtime, suffocate these caterpillars,
Like the snail dries inside the shell,
Or like the stillborn who is born perishing
And whom death receives from its hands at birth.
Burn with a wicked wind even to the roots
The first buds of these tender thorns;
May everything perish, and may no one take them in his hands
To warm humans with this accursed wood. […]
Théodore Agrippa d’Aubigné
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-the-gilded-chamber-theodore-agrippa-d-aubigne/