Ballade of the Hanged (Villon's Epitaph) -- Francois Villon

Guest poem submitted by Vikram Doctor:

(Poem #556) Ballade of the Hanged (Villon's Epitaph) Brothers that live when we are dead, don't set yourself against us too. If you could pity us instead, then God may sooner pity you. We five or six strung up to view, dangling the flesh we fed so well, are eaten piecemeal, rot and smell. We bones in a fine dust shall fall. No one make that a laugh to tell: pray God may save us one and all. Brothers, if that's the word we said, it's no disparagement to you although in justice we hang dead. Yet all the same you know how few are men of sense in all they do. Pray now we're dead that Jesu's well of grace shall not run dry - nor Hell open in thunder as we fall. We're dead don't harry us as well: pray God may save us one and all. Showered and rinsed with rain, we dead the sun has dried out black and blue. Magpie and crow gouge out each head for eyes and pluck the hair. On view, never at rest a moment of two, winds blow us here or there a spell; more pricked than a tailor's thumb could tell we're needled by the birds. Don't fall then for our brotherhood and cell: pray God may save us one and all. Prince, Lord of Men, oh keep us well beyond the sovereignty of Hell. On him we've no business to call. And, men, it's no joke now I tell: pray God may save us one and all. -- Francois Villon

tr. Peter Dale.

There is no poet quite like Villon, which is why we have to have something by
him, though the problem is immediately obvious: Villon does not translate well
at all. 'Where are the snows of yesteryear' for 'Ou sont les neiges d'antan' is
a fluke; apart from that I've never seen any translation that quite does justice
to his tone.

And that tone is so unmistakeable, even to someone like me whose French is only
passable. Witty, pithy, sad, romantic, vituperative, street-smart, crude and yet
refined, it simply reeks from every line of Villon's colourful life. (There's a
biographical sketch after this, also the original for those who know some
French. It's medieval French, but can still be understood to some extent by
speakers of current French).

Perhaps it's this legend that colours the reading, but then one has to accept
that there are poets whose lives and verse cannot be separated (for some reason
it's the French poets like Villon, Baudelaire, Rimbaud and Verlaine who come
most immediately to mind, though of course it's also true of Byron, Shelley and
others).

And of all the poems Villon wrote, none carries more emotional impact than this.
Villon was imprisoned and very definitely facing execution when he wrote this,
and this expectation hugely fills every syllable of this poem. That cliche of
never being more aware of life at the point of death is no cliche here, its what
the poem is all about. There is an agonising awareness of life in his precise
description of the corpses hung up in the wind and how their bodies rot.

And the plea for mercy is agonisingly real too. For all his quarrels with the
Church, there is no doubt that Villon was a believer, and that faith - or
horror, the two seem to be the same for him - aches through this poem.

This is also an example of a poetic form that fits the purpose brilliantly. In
English the ballade often seems an artificial form: the fixed rhymes, the strict
number of verses and the poet's address to himself or a superior at the end
(which always reminds me of the ghazal, the last couplet of which also starts
with such an address to someone). In English it seems to work best in comic
verse.

But not in French. Ballades are among the best poems in French, and in Villon's
hand reached a level no one else ever really did. Villon's handling of the
technical constraints is so easy and skillful, one almost never becomes aware of
them. And in this poem, the address in last quatrain comes in all too
appropriately for Villon to beg Jesus for mercy.

Vikram.

 "Ballade des Pendus (L'Epitaphe Villon)"

 Freres humains qui après nous vivez
 N'ayez les cuers contre nous endurcis
 Cas se pitié de nous povres avez
 Dieu en aura plus tost de vous mercis.
 Vous nous voiez cy attachez cinq, six.
 Quant de la chair que trop avons nourrie,
 Elle est pieça devorée et pourrie,
 Et nous, les os, devenons cendre et pouldre.
 De nostre mal personne ne s'en rie
 Mais priez Dieu que tous nous vueille absouldre.

 Se freres vous clamons, pas n'en devez
 Avoir desdaing, quoy que fusmes occis
 Par justice. Toutesfois, vous sçavez
 Qua tous hommes n'ont pas bon sens rassis.
 Excusez nous, puis que sommes transsis,
 Envers le fils de la Vierge Marie
 Que sa grace ne soit pour nous tarie
 Nous sommes mors; ame ne nous harie
 Mais priez Dieu que tous nous vueille absouldre.

 La pluye nous a debuez et lavez
 Et le soleil dessechiez et noircis.
 Pies, corbeaulx, nous ont les yeux cavez
 Et arrachié la barbe et les sourcis.
 Jamais nul temps nous ne sommes assis;
 Puis ça, puis la, comme le vent varie
 A son plaisir sans cesser nous charie,
 Plus becquetez d'oiseaulx que dez a couldre.
 Ne soiez donc de nostre confrarie
 Mis priez Dieu que tous nous vueille absouldre.

 Prince Jesus qui sur tous a maistrie
 Garde qu'Enfer n'ait de nous seigneurie.
 A luy n'ayons que faire ne que souldre.
 Hommes, icy n'a point de mocquerie;
 Mais priez Dieu que tous nous vueille absouldre.

        -- Francois Villon

[Bio]

Francois Villon was born Francois Montcorbier or Francois des Loges in 1431. He
took his surname, Villon, from his guardian and benefactor, Guillaume de Villon,
chaplain of Saint-Benoît-le-Bétourné, a man of whom he speaks well, in both Le
Lais and Le Testament. He took his baccalauréat from the University of Paris in
1449. Around 1451, he was probably involved in a student rag which removed a
landmark (le Pet au Diable: The Devil's Fart) from the front of Mademoiselle de
Bruyère's house. He himself mentions a poem, Le Roman du Pet au Diable, in Le
Testament.

However, in 1452, he received his licence and maire ès arts from the University
of Paris. His first clash with the law occurred in 1455 when he was involved in
a fight with a priest who was killed An eye-witness, admittedly a friend of
Villon's, maintains he acted in self-defence. Though pardoned for the murder in
1456, that same year he was implicated in the famous robbery of five hundred
golden écus from the College of Navarre. Guy Tabary and Colin de Cayeux are two
of his confederates mentioned in Le Testament. In this year he wrote, presumably
in some haste, Le Lais. Tabary's confession to the robbery in 1457 made Villon
leave Paris and go on the run. Much of the rest of the detail of his life comes
from Le Testament, on the assumption that it is truly autobiographical.
According to this he was imprisoned, somewhat unjustly or pettily if his mood is
anything to judge from, by the Bishop of Orleans in his palace-dungeons at
Meung.

He was set free to celebrate King Louis IX's progress through the town., In this
year he wrote Le Testament in which he speaks of his wanderings and various
towns that must have been his itinerary between, say, 1456 and 1461. In 1462, he
is again in prison, the Châtelet, charged with robbery of the College of
Navarre. He was released quickly on promising to repay the money. The last real
fact we have about Villon is his arrest for brawling later in 1462... He had
been imprisoned for a minor brawling incident with a papal scribe Ferrebouc who,
unluckily, had influence. He was tortured and sentenced to be strangled and
hanged... Parliament set aside the sentence, imposing banishment from Paris.

        -- from Francois Villon: Selected Poems.

[EndNote]

I forgot to add that the one English poet who Villon reminds me of a bit is John
Skelton. Skelton's short, rapid lines, are very different technically, but there
is a bit of Villon in his street wise cocky quality.

I might be going out on a bit of a limb here, since I just consulted my local
Eng. Litt. expert who sort of kindly told me this was a bit far fetched, Villon
being part of the courtly love tradition.

But reading Le Testament again for this I was struck by how much of it is simply
making fun of and abusing random people who seem to have annoyed him, and for
some reason it made me think of Skelton. Anyway, the only thing to result from
this is the suggestion that we have some Skelton sometime since he's fun and
very distinctive.

Vikram.