François Villon

The Ballad Of The Proverbs By François Villon

The Ballad Of The Proverbs By François Villon

The Ballad Of The Proverbs So rough the goat will scratch, it cannot sleep. So often goes the pot to the well that it breaks. So long you heat iron, it will glow; so heavily you hammer it, it shatters. So good is the man as his praise; so far he will go, and he’s forgotten; so bad he behaves, ... »

Le Testament Ballade ‘item Donne A Ma Povre Mere’ By François Villon

Le Testament Ballade ‘item Donne A Ma Povre Mere’ By François Villon

Le Testament Ballade ‘item Donne A Ma Povre Mere’ Item This I give to my poor mother As a prayer now, to our Mistress – She who bore bitter pain for me, God knows, and also much sadness – I’ve no other castle or fortress, That my body and soul can summon, When I’m faced... »

The Ballad Of Villon And Fat Madge By François Villon

The Ballad Of Villon And Fat Madge By François Villon

The Ballad Of Villon And Fat Madge ‘’Tis no sin for a man to labour in his vocation.’ -Falstaff ‘The night cometh, when no man can work.’ What though the beauty I love and serve be cheap, Ought you to take me for a beast or fool? All things a man could wish are in her keep; For her... »

Ballade Du Concours De Blois By François Villon

Ballade Du Concours De Blois By François Villon

Ballade Du Concours De Blois I’m dying of thirst beside the fountain, Hot as fire, and with chattering teeth: In my own land, I’m in a far domain: Near the flame, I shiver beyond belief: Bare as a worm, dressed in a furry sheathe, I smile in tears, wait without expectation: Taking my com... »

Le Testament Epitaph Et Rondeau By François Villon

Le Testament Epitaph Et Rondeau By François Villon

Le Testament Epitaph Et Rondeau Epitaph Here there lies, and sleeps in the grave, One whom Love killed with his scorn, A poor little scholar in every way, He was named François Villon. He never reaped a morsel of corn: Willed all away, as all men know: Bed, table, and basket all are gone. Gallants, ... »

Ballade By François Villon

Ballade By François Villon

Ballade I know flies in milk I know the man by his clothes I know fair weather from foul I know the apple by the tree I know the tree when I see the sap I know when all is one I know who labors and who loafs I know everything but myself. I know the coat by the collar I know the monk by the cowl I kn... »

Le Testament Rondeau By François Villon

Le Testament Rondeau By François Villon

Le Testament Rondeau Death, I cry out at your harshness, That stole my girl away from me, Yet you’re not satisfied I see Until I languish in distress. Since then I’ve lost all liveliness: What harm alive, to you, was she? Death, I cry out at your harshness, That stole my girl away from m... »

Ballade [The Goat Scratches So Much It Can’t Sleep] By François Villon

Ballade [The Goat Scratches So Much It Can’t Sleep] By François Villon

Ballade [the Goat Scratches So Much It Can’T Sleep] The goat scratches so much it can’t sleep The pot fetches water so much it breaks You heat iron so much it reddens You hammer it so much it cracks A man’s worth so much as he’s esteemed He’s away so much he’s for... »

Le Testament Les Regrets De La Belle Heaulmière By François Villon

Le Testament Les Regrets De La Belle Heaulmière By François Villon

Le Testament Les Regrets De La Belle Heaulmière By chance, I heard the belle complain, The one we called the Armouress, Longing to be a girl again, Talking like this, more or less: ‘Oh, old age, proud in wickedness, You’ve battered me so, and why? Who cares, who, for my distress, Or whether at... »

Ballade [I Die Of Thirst Beside The Fountain] By François Villon By François Villon

Ballade [I Die Of Thirst Beside The Fountain] By François Villon By François Villon

Ballade [I Die Of Thirst Beside The Fountain] I die of thirst beside the fountain I’m hot as fire, I’m shaking tooth on tooth In my own country I’m in a distant land Beside the blaze I’m shivering in flames Naked as a worm, dressed like a president I laugh in tears and hope i... »

Rondel By François Villon

Rondel By François Villon

Rondel Goodbye! the tears are in my eyes; Farewell, farewell, my prettiest; Farewell, of women born the best; Good-bye! the saddest of good-byes. Farewell! with many vows and sighs My sad heart leaves you to your rest; Farewell! the tears are in my eyes; Farewell! from you my miseries Are more than ... »

Ballad Of The Ladies Of Yore By François Villon

Ballad Of The Ladies Of Yore By François Villon

Ballad Of The Ladies Of Yore Tell me where, in what country, Is Flora the beautiful Roman, Archipiada or Thais Who was first cousin to her once, Echo who speaks when there’s a sound On a pond or a river Whose beauty was more than human? But where are the snows of yesteryear? Where is the leame... »

Le Testament Ballade Pour Robert D’estouteville By François Villon

Le Testament Ballade Pour Robert D’estouteville By François Villon

Le Testament Ballade Pour Robert D’Estouteville A t dawn of day, when falcon shakes his wing, M ainly from pleasure, and from noble usage, B lackbirds too shake theirs then as they sing, R eceiving their mates, mingling their plumage, O, as the desires it lights in me now rage, I ‘d offe... »

Ballad Of The Gibbet By François Villon

Ballad Of The Gibbet By François Villon

Ballad Of The Gibbet Brothers and men that shall after us be, Let not your hearts be hard to us: For pitying this our misery Ye shall find God the more piteous. Look on us six that are hanging thus, And for the flesh that so much we cherished How it is eaten of birds and perished, And ashes and dust... »

Le Testament Ballade A S’amye By François Villon

Le Testament Ballade A S’amye By François Villon

Le Testament Ballade A S’Amye F alse beauty that costs me so dear, R ough indeed, a hypocrite sweetness, A mor, like iron on the teeth and harder, N amed only to achieve my sure distress, C harm that’s murderous, poor heart’s death, O covert pride that sends men to ruin, I mplacabl... »

Arbor Amoris By François Villon

Arbor Amoris By François Villon

Arbor Amoris I have a tree, a graft of Love, That in my heart has taken root; Sad are the buds and blooms thereof, And bitter sorrow is its fruit; Yet, since it was a tender shoot, So greatly hath its shadow spread, That underneath all joy is dead, And all my pleasant days are flown, Nor can I slay ... »

Epitaph In The Form Of A Ballade By François Villon

Epitaph In The Form Of A Ballade By François Villon

Epitaph In The Form Of A Ballade Freres humains qui apres nous vivez, N’ayez les coeurs contre nous endurcis … Men, brother men, that after us yet live, Let not your hearts too hard against us be; For if some pity of us poor men ye give, The sooner God shall take of you pity. Here are we... »

Villon’s Epitaph (Ballade Of The Hanged Men) By François Villon

Villon’s Epitaph (Ballade Of The Hanged Men) By François Villon

Villon’s Epitaph (Ballade Of The Hanged Men) O brother men who after us remain, Do not look coldly on the scene you view, For if you pity wretchedness and pain, God will the more incline to pity you. You see us hang here, half a dozen who Indulged the flesh in every liberty Till it was pecked and ro... »

Ballade Epistre By François Villon

Ballade Epistre By François Villon

Ballade Epistre Have pity now, have pity now on me, If you at least would, friends of mine. I’m in the depths, not holly or may, In exile, where I’ve been consigned By Fortune, as God too has designed. Girls, lovers, youngsters, fresh to hand, Dancers, tumblers that leap like lambs, Agil... »

The Debate Between Villon And His Heart By François Villon

The Debate Between Villon And His Heart By François Villon

The Debate Between Villon And His Heart Who’s that I hear?—It’s me—Who?—Your heart Hanging on by the thinnest thread I lose all my strength, substance, and fluid When I see you withdrawn this way all alone Like a whipped cur sulking in the corner Is it due to your mad hedonism?— WhatR... »

Ballade To Our Lady By François Villon

Ballade To Our Lady By François Villon

Ballade To Our Lady WRITTEN FOR HIS MOTHER Dame du ciel, regents terrienne, Emperiere des infemaux palus…. Lady of Heaven and earth, and therewithal Crowned Empress of the nether clefts of Hell,— I, thy poor Christian, on thy name do call, Commending me to thee, with thee to dwell, Albeit in n... »