La Chanson de Roland : Translated from the Seventh Edition of Léon Gautier
General
La Chanson de Roland : Translated from the Seventh Edition of Léon Gautier
Epic poetry, French -- Translations into English; Knights and knighthood -- Poetry; Roland (Legendary character) -- Romances
"Beloved Rolland, to France I now return.
When in my chamber I shall be at Louen,
And foreign men come from afar to ask
Where lives Rolland the Captain, I shall say
'He lieth dead in Spain;' and I henceforth
Shall hold my realm in bitter pain. No day
Shall dawn for me unmarked by tears and moans."
Aoi.
CCXI.
"Sweet friend Rolland, brave Knight and beauteous youth,
When I return to Aix, in my Chapelle,
And men shall come to hear me speak of thee,
What strange and cruel news I then shall have
To greet them with! 'My nephew who for me
Such conquests made ... is dead.' And Saxons now
Will rise against my power, and Hungres, and Bugres
With other foes--the men of Rome, of Pouille,
And all those of Palerne; and those who hold
Affrike and Califerne. Day after day
My pain will grow--Who then shall lead my host
With such an arm of might, since he is dead,
Who was our chief and head so long. Alas!
Sweet France, bereft art thou! So great my grief
I would not live!"--he plucks out his white beard
And tears his hair with both hands from his head.
Swoon on the earth one hundred thousand Franks--
Aoi.
CCXII.
"Sweet friend," he cried, "Rolland, thou art no more:
Oh! may thy soul have place in Paradise!
Who gave thee death brought grievous shame to France.
Such is my grief, I would not longer live.
My kinsmen died for me! I pray Our Lord,
The Blessed Mary's son, before I reach
Cizra's defiles, from mortal life to take
My soul away, and let it rest with theirs.
I would my body lay beside their own!"
And, weeping sore, he tears his hoary beard....
Then said Duke Naimes:--"What cruel pain is Carle's!"
Aoi.
CCXIII.
"Sire Emperor," spoke forth Geffrei d'Anjou,
"Yield not so much to sorrow--Orders give
To seek our men throughout the battle-field,
In combat killed by those of Spain, and lay
Them in one grave"--Carle said: "Then sound your horn."
Aoi.
CCXIV.
Geffrei d'Anjou obeyed and blew his horn;
The French dismount, such was the king's command,
And all their friends found slain upon the field
Together in one charnel wide inter:
A crowd of bishops, abbots, canons, monks
And tonsured priests there gathered, in the name
Of God assoil and bless; incense and myrrh
Are burned in reverence and love before
The dead who, buried there with honors great,
Are left alone--what more was there to do?
Aoi.
CCXV.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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