Lines of Madame d'Houtetôt
[Page 183]
LINES OF MADAME D’HOUTETOT.(1)
Jeune, j’aimai. Le temps de mon bel age,
Ce temps si court, l’amour seul le remplit:
Quand j’atteignis la saison d’être sage,
Toujours j’aimai: la raison me le dit.
Mais l’âge vient, et le plaisir s’envole;
Mais mon bonheur ne s’envole aujourd’hui,
Car j’aime encore, et l’amour me console;
Rien n’aurait pu me consoler de lui.
When young, I lov’d. At that delicious age,
So sweet, so short, love was my sole delight;
And when I reach’d the season to be sage,
Still I lov’d on, for reason gave me right.
Age comes at length, and livelier joys depart,
Yet gentle ones still kiss these eyelids dim;
For still I love, and love consoles my heart;
What could console me for the loss of him?
_________
TALARI INNAMORATI.
DEAR Molly, who art the best comingest lass,
With a foot not so big as the slipper of brass,
Or as her’s, whom a wag, strangely gifting with wrong clo’es,
Calls, most unbecomingly, Ninon de Long-clo’es,
(Of whom ’tis recorded, that in a ragoût
Some young men of fashion once toss’d up her shoe),
Take a story that came in my head t’other day,
As writing a libel, all careless I lay,
So good-natur’d am I, and soon carried away.
EDITORIAL NOTES
[1] Leigh Hunt is the author of this translation of Madame d’Houtetot’s poem “Aimer” (see Hippolyte Buffenoir, La comtesse d’Houdetot, sa famille, ses amis, Paris: Henri Leclerc, 1905, 84).
Ultimo aggiornamento
22.09.2025