outland poetry
anthology
诗选
Pierre Corneille
Ode to the death of King Louis XIII
This marble rest of innocence under the monarchy,
Only his kind that the French offensive,
All his sins only by Morrison so bad
He as an accomplice. Too long, but the innocent.
Ambitious, arrogant, audacious, covet mean
Wins out of his power, become our master,
Although he claims made by road in the heart wide open,
His reign was littered with injustice.
He is the Articles of the Lord, but it is the palace slaves,
Together with our tyrant he had just passed away,
This forced him to accompany himself into the tyrant grave.
Unfortunately, this has always been Who ever heard of?
Thirty-three years on the throne in vain to spend,
He had just began to rule, to stop living.
(Cheng Crewe translation)
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Eliza Blanc's epitaph cover
Do not the tears she shed on this headstone,
Do not stop: This bed is very valuable rare soul,
Pure body, pure ash lying on this,
But spiritual passion lives on in all directions.
No Sashourenhuan to meet death,
Rising high above her soul, program can not and,
The phase of her life together with God;
She walks the earth, and walking in heaven.
Far better than the fate of her people a sense of their style,
Bite the bullet and suffering is her routine,
Her last sigh sad sound of love.
Do not stop, just like her innocent body stirring,
Do not cry so bereaved mourn her life,
Please believe that this death will live forever.
(Cheng Crewe translation)
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