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From flore to here,<br />

From here to bere,<br />

From bere to putte,<br />

And the putt fordut.<br />

Thanne lyd mine hus uppe mine nose.<br />

Of al this world ne give I it a pese!<br />

From floor to shroud,<br />

From shroud to bier,<br />

From bier to grave,<br />

And the grave will be closed up.<br />

Th<strong>en</strong> rests my house upon my nose.<br />

For the whole world I don’t care one jot.<br />

Du plancher dans le linceul,<br />

Du linceul au cercueil,<br />

Du cercueil au tombeau,<br />

Et la tombe sera fermée.<br />

Alors reposera ma maison sur moi.<br />

Du monde <strong>en</strong>tier, je n’aurai plus ri<strong>en</strong> à faire !<br />

A YEATS TRILOGY<br />

9. To A Child Dancing In The Wind<br />

(W. B. Yeats, from Responsibilities and Other Poems, 1916)<br />

Dance there upon the shore;<br />

What need have you to care<br />

For wind or water's roar?<br />

And tumble out your hair<br />

That the salt drops have wet;<br />

Being young you have not known<br />

The fool's triumph, nor yet<br />

Love lost as soon as won,<br />

Nor the best labourer dead<br />

And all the sheaves to bind.<br />

What need have you to dread<br />

The monstrous crying of wind?<br />

10. He Wishes For The Cloths Of Heav<strong>en</strong><br />

(W. B. Yeats, from The Wind Among the Reeds, 1899)<br />

Had I the heav<strong>en</strong>s' embroidered cloths,<br />

Enwrought with gold<strong>en</strong> and silver light,<br />

The blue and the dim and the dark cloths<br />

Of night and light and the half-light,<br />

I would spread the cloths under your feet:<br />

But I, being poor, have only my dreams;<br />

I have spread my dreams under your feet;<br />

Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.<br />

TROIS POEMES DE YEATS<br />

9. A un <strong>en</strong>fant qui danse au v<strong>en</strong>t<br />

(W. B. Yeats, extrait de Responsibilities and Other Poems, 1916)<br />

Danse là sur le rivage<br />

Pourquoi te soucierais-tu<br />

Du v<strong>en</strong>t ou de l'eau qui gronde ?<br />

Et secoue tes cheveux<br />

Qu'ont trempés les gouttes salées.<br />

Étant jeune, tu n’as pas connu<br />

Le triomphe de l’imbécile<br />

Ni l'amour perdu aussitôt gagné<br />

Ni la mort du meilleur manœuvre,<br />

Qui laissa défaite toute la gerbe.<br />

Pourquoi aurais-tu crainte<br />

De l'horreur que clame le v<strong>en</strong>t ?<br />

10. Lui qui aurait voulu pouvoir offrir le ciel<br />

(W. B. Yeats, extrait de The Wind Among the Reeds, 1899)<br />

Si je possédais les nappes brodées des cieux,<br />

Faites de lumières d’or et d’arg<strong>en</strong>t,<br />

Les sombres nappes et les ternes et les bleues<br />

De la nuit et du jour et du demi-jour,<br />

J’ét<strong>en</strong>drais ces nappes sous tes pieds :<br />

Mais étant pauvre, je n’ai que mes rêves<br />

J’ai ét<strong>en</strong>du mes rêves sous tes pieds ;<br />

Marche doucem<strong>en</strong>t, car tu marches sur mes rêves.

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