September 6, 2012

I am looking forward to this evening--a friend and I are going to our favorite French market,  run by two friends who share a love of all things French.  You can read more about the market at http://www.facebook.com/#!/Confectionique.  I am hoping to find a couple of surprises for my daughter's apartment, since her apartment decor this year is leaning towards French shabby chic.  We've become quite the international family lately...my brother is planning an anniversary trip to Paris next month, my son studied in England and Italy in June, and my nephew just arrived in Sardinia, Italy for a year of study-abroad!  Here's a French poem to add a little international flavor to your day!



Painting by Claude Monet, Giverny France

Poème
Heureux qui, comme Ulysse, a fait un beau voyage,
Ou comme cestuy-là qui conquit la toison,
Et puis est retourné, plein d'usage et raison,
Vivre entre ses parents le reste de son âge !

Quand reverrai-je, hélas, de mon petit village
Fumer la cheminée, et en quelle saison
Reverrai-je le clos de ma pauvre maison,
Qui m'est une province, et beaucoup davantage ?

Plus me plaît le séjour qu'ont bâti mes aïeux,
Que des palais Romains le front audacieux,
Plus que le marbre dur me plaît l'ardoise fine :

Joachim du Bellay, Les Regrets, sonnet XXXI, 1558

Translation
Happy he who like Ulysses has returned successful from his travels,
Or like he who sought the Golden Fleece,
Then returned, wise to the world, to
Live amongst his family to the end of his age!

When shall I see again, alas, of my dear village,
Its chimney smoke, and in which season,
Will I see again that little, modest, plot of earth
That is a province to me, and far more than I draw here.

I’m drawn far more to my forefathers home,
Than to a Roman palace fine and proud,
More than hard marble I prefer fine slate.


No matter what language is used, the thought remains the same, doesn't it?  There's no place like home!

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