Part 1 — CARCASSONNE
Reading edition
"I'm growing old, I've sixty years; I've labored all my life in vain. In all that time of hopes and fears, I've failed my dearest wish to gain. I see full well that here below Bliss unalloyed there is for none; My prayer would else fulfilment know— Never have I seen Carcassonne!
"You see the city from the hill, It lies beyond the mountains blue; And yet to reach it one must still Five long and weary leagues pursue, And, to return, as many more. Had but the vintage plenteous grown— But, ah! the grape withheld its store. I shall not look on Carcassonne!
"They tell me every day is there Not more or less than Sunday gay; In shining robes and garments fair The people walk upon their way. One gazes there on castle walls As grand as those of Babylon, A bishop and two generals! What joy to dwell in Carcassonne!
"The vicar's right: he says that we Are ever wayward, weak, and blind; He tells us in his homily Ambition ruins all mankind; Yet could I there two days have spent, While still the autumn sweetly shone, Ah, me! I might have died content When I had looked on Carcassonne.
"Thy pardon, Father, I beseech, In this my prayer if I offend; One something sees beyond his reach From childhood to his journey's end. My wife, our little boy, Aignan, Have travelled even to Narbonne; My grandchild has seen Perpignan; And I—have not seen Carcassonne!"
So crooned, one day, close by Limoux, A peasant, double-bent with age. "Rise up, my friend," said I; "with you I'll go upon this pilgrimage." We left, next morning, his abode, But (Heaven forgive him!) half-way on The old man died upon the road. He never gazed on Carcassonne.
Translated by John R. Thompson from the French of Gustave Nadaud [1820-? ]