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The Evil Monk
Les cloîtres anciens sur leurs grandes murailles
Étalaient en tableaux la sainte Vérité,
Dont l’effet, réchauffant les pieuses entrailles,
Tempérait la froideur de leur austérité.
The cloisters old, expounded on their walls
With paintings, the Beatic Verity,
The which--adorning their religious halls,
Enriched the frigidness of their Austerity.
With paintings, the Beatic Verity,
The which--adorning their religious halls,
Enriched the frigidness of their Austerity.
En ces temps où du Christ florissaient les semailles,
Plus d’un illustre moine, aujourd’hui peu cité,
Prenant pour atelier le champ des funérailles,
Glorifiait la Mort avec simplicité.
In days when Christian seeds bloomed o'er the land,
Full many a noble monk unknown to-day,
Upon the field of tombs would take his stand,
Exalting Death in rude and simple way.
Full many a noble monk unknown to-day,
Upon the field of tombs would take his stand,
Exalting Death in rude and simple way.
— Mon âme est un tombeau que, mauvais cénobite,
Depuis l’éternité je parcours et j’habite ;
Rien n’embellit les murs de ce cloître odieux.
My soul is a tomb where--bad monk that I be--
I dwell and search its depths from all eternity,
And nought bedecks the walls of the odious spot.
I dwell and search its depths from all eternity,
And nought bedecks the walls of the odious spot.
Ô moine fainéant ! quand saurai-je donc faire
Du spectacle vivant de ma triste misère
Le travail de mes mains et l’amour de mes yeux ?
Oh sluggard monk! when shall I glean aright
From the living spectacle of my bitter lot,
To mold my handywork and mine eyes' Delight?
From the living spectacle of my bitter lot,
To mold my handywork and mine eyes' Delight?