A t dawn of day, when falcon shakes his wing, <br />M ainly from pleasure, and from noble usage, <br />B lackbirds too shake theirs then as they sing, <br />R eceiving their mates, mingling their plumage, <br />O, as the desires it lights in me now rage, <br />I 'd offer you, joyously, what befits the lover. <br />S ee how Love has written this very page: <br />E ven for this end are we come together. <br /> <br />D oubtless, as my heart's lady you'll have being, <br />E ntirely now, till death consumes my age. <br />L aurel, so sweet, for my cause now fighting, <br />O live, so noble, removing all bitter foliage, <br />R eason does not wish me unused to owing, <br />E ven as I'm to agree with this wish, forever, <br />Duty to you, but rather grow used to serving: <br />Even for this end are we come together. <br /> <br />And, what's more, when sorrow's beating <br />Down on me, through Fate's incessant rage, <br />Your sweet glance its malice is assuaging, <br />Nor more or less than wind blows smoke away. <br />As, in your field, I plant I lose no grain, <br />For the harvest resembles me, and ever <br />God orders me to plough, and sow again: <br />Even for this end are we come together. <br /> <br />Princess, listen to this I now maintain: <br />That my heart and yours will not dissever: <br />So much I presume of you, and claim: <br />Even for this end are we come together.<br /><br />François Villon<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/le-testament-ballade-pour-robert-d-estouteville/
