Nobody knows this little Rose -- It might a pilgrim be Did I not take it from the ways And lift it up to thee. Only a Bee will miss it -- Only a Butterfly, Hastening from far journey -- On its breast to lie -- Only a Bird will wonder -- Only a Breeze will sigh -- Ah Little Rose -- how easy For such as thee to die!
"Mignonne, allons voir si la rose Qui ce matin avoit desclose Sa robe de pourpre au Soleil, A point perdu ceste vesprée Les plis de sa robe pourprée, Et son teint au vostre pareil. ..." Ode à Cassandre Pierre de Ronsard (16th century)
Thats what came to my mind when seeing your picture of that divine rose. Old French.
Found some translation for your readers, if interested :
Ode To Cassandra
Mignonne, come let us see if the rose Which this morning opened Her robe of crimson to the sun, Has not already lost, at evening, The folds of her crimson robe, And her complexion, so like your own.
- not Old English, but this can give an idea of the poem - Marie-Noëlle
Marie-Noëlle, thank you, very kind of you! I never studied French, but I love French poetry, and - first through translations - have learned to "understand" and love, for example, the original "Invitation au Voyage by Baudelaire and Valéry's "Le cimetière marin". Speaking Italian helps, but I will forever bemoan that I did not take French in school.
It DEFINITELY looks like a Pilgrim to me...
ReplyDeletebien sur
absolutement
OUI!
:)
PS
ReplyDeleteKind of amazing how you make a rose on it's last legs look good!
It looks so delicate. Love the pink against the blue sky.
ReplyDeleteFading roses can be so poignant...
ReplyDeleteParis Breakfast,
ReplyDeletemerci! :-)
Kelly H-Y,
yes, it touched my heart too.
Vicki Lane,
I agree!
Here is the poem by Emily Dickinson:
Nobody knows this little Rose --
It might a pilgrim be
Did I not take it from the ways
And lift it up to thee.
Only a Bee will miss it --
Only a Butterfly,
Hastening from far journey --
On its breast to lie --
Only a Bird will wonder --
Only a Breeze will sigh --
Ah Little Rose -- how easy
For such as thee to die!
Wishing you all a day filled with roses,
Merisi
"Mignonne, allons voir si la rose
ReplyDeleteQui ce matin avoit desclose
Sa robe de pourpre au Soleil,
A point perdu ceste vesprée
Les plis de sa robe pourprée,
Et son teint au vostre pareil.
..."
Ode à Cassandre
Pierre de Ronsard (16th century)
Thats what came to my mind when seeing your picture of that divine rose.
Old French.
Marie-Noëlle
Triste..triste..triste
ReplyDelete:(
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
ReplyDeleteThat rose makes me think of dawn.
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
ReplyDeleteMarie-Noëlle,
ReplyDeletemerci beaucoup for this beautiful poem! :-)
Paris Breakfast,
it is life. Therefore, carpe diem,
as long as we still breathe.
Charles Gramlich,
I try to imagine what kind of short story you'd weave around that dawn! ;-)
Found some translation for your readers, if interested :
ReplyDeleteOde To Cassandra
Mignonne, come let us see if the rose
Which this morning opened
Her robe of crimson to the sun,
Has not already lost, at evening,
The folds of her crimson robe,
And her complexion, so like your own.
- not Old English, but this can give an idea of the poem -
Marie-Noëlle
Marie-Noëlle,
ReplyDeletethank you, very kind of you!
I never studied French, but I love French poetry, and - first through translations - have learned to "understand" and love, for example, the original "Invitation au Voyage by Baudelaire and Valéry's "Le cimetière marin". Speaking Italian helps, but I will forever bemoan that I did not take French in school.
Delicate beauty~
ReplyDelete