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Pierre de Ronsard Sonnet 49

vijaykumar's picture
on February 25, 2008 - 3:40pm

I would not be sorry, if you were counting my sufferings, to count the steps of your staircase, which I have counted and recounted so often. You are housed at the top of the Palace of our Kings; even the summit of Mount Olympus was not so high.

At each step I lose my breath and my pulse races; sweat covers my brow, gasps rack my chest, all so that I can hear a firm no, a refusal, a voice utterly filled with disdain, coldness and haughtiness.

You are like a Goddess seated in a very high place. I am not a God who can climb up to your heaven. I shall voice my customary lamentations from the courtyard,

sending up to you on high my devoted heart. In the same way men direct their prayers to Jupiter: men are on earth and Jupiter in the heavens.

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