Honorat de Beuil Seigneur de Racan

Honorat de Beuil Seigneur de Racan Poems

Honorat de Beuil Seigneur de Racan Biography

Honorat de Bueil, seigneur de Racan (sometimes mistakenly listed as "marquis de Racan", although he never held this title; 5 February 1589 - 21 January 1670) was a French aristocrat, soldier, poet, dramatist and (original) member of the Académie française. Racan was born at (Aubigné-Racan in the Sarthe, into an illustrious noble family (originally of Italian origin) from the region of Tours (site of the Racan fief and the château of La Roche-Racan), Maine and Anjou. An orphan at the age of 13 (both his uncle and father were killed in the wars), Racan came under the protection of the Count de Bellegarde (first gentleman of the king's chamber) and became a page for king Henry IV of France. His education was minimal, and by his own account he learned only the rudiments of Latin, and was bored by most of his subjects, exception being made to French verse. Racan's successes as a courtier were limited by his physical appearance and his stuttering (he reputedly had difficulties with both the letters r and c). In 1605, he met the estimed poet François de Malherbe at the court, and the elder poet would become for Racan both a father figure and teacher. In 1621 Racan participated in the Wars of Religion and his military career would continue through the next decades (including the siege of Sancerre and the siege of La Rochelle). Around 1619, Racan's pastoral play in verse Les Bergeries (originally entitled Arthénice) - inspired by Virgil, Tasso's Aminta, Giambattista Guarini's Il pastor fido, Honoré d'Urfé's L'Astrée, and, to a certain extent, the writings of Saint François de Sales - was performed to great acclaim. Racan had equal success with his Stances de la retraite (1618), his translations of the Psalms - in an initial version in 1631, and later with his Odes sacrées (tirées des psaumes de David) (1651) and Dernières œuvres et poésies chrétiennes (1660) - and his memoirs on the life of Malherbe (1651). Not knowing Hebrew, Racan relied on accurate French paraphrases of the sacred texts (such as those by Clément Marot), but departed from the literal translations in the interest of poetic grace. Racan's acceptance speech for the Académie française Contre les Sciences (1635), was an oration against "rules" and affectation, and in praise of "naturalness" (prefiguring Jean-Jacques Rousseau by over a hundred years). Racan's poetry was rigorous (he reworked his poems throughout his life and his works were often published with last minute errata), but he did not completely reject the authors of Renaissance (unlike Malherbe, Racan appreciated Pierre de Ronsard and Michel de Montaigne) and was less inflexible on the question of the three unities. His elegies and pastoral show a sensitivity to the natural sights of his native region, and his poetry is often informed by a melancholy inspired by his youthful disappointments in love and the financial and personal tragedies of his life. He died in Paris in 1670.)

The Best Poem Of Honorat de Beuil Seigneur de Racan

La Venue Du Printemps

Enfin, Termes, les ombrages
Reverdissent dans les bois,
L'hiver et tous ses orages
Sont en prison pour neuf mois ;
Enfin la neige et la glace
Font à la verdure place,
Enfin le beau temps reluit,
Et Philomèle, assurée
De la fureur de Térée,
Chante aux forêts jour et nuit.

Déjà les fleurs qui bourgeonnent
Rajeunissent les vergers,
Tous les échos ne résonnent
Que de chansons de bergers,
Les jeux, les ris, et la danse
Sont partout en abondance,
Les délices ont leur tour,
La tristesse se retire,
Et personne ne soupire
S'il ne soupire d'amour.

Les moissons dorent les plaines,
Le ciel est tout de saphirs,
Le murmure des fontaines
S'accorde au bruit des zéphirs,
Les foudres et les tempêtes
Ne grondent plus sur nos têtes,
Ni des vents séditieux
Les insolentes colères
Ne poussent plus les galères
Des abîmes dans les cieux.

Ces belles fleurs que Nature
Dans les campagnes produit
Brillent parmi la verdure
Comme des astres la nuit :
L'Aurore, qui dans son âme
Brûle d'une douce flamme,
Laissant au lit endormi
Son vieux mari, froid et pâle,
Désormais est matinale
Pour aller voir son ami.

Termes, de qui le mérite
Ne se peut trop estimer,
La belle saison invite
Chacun au plaisir d'aimer
La jeunesse de l'année
Soudain se voit terminée,
Après le chaud véhément
Revient l'extrême froidure,
Et rien au monde ne dure
Qu'un éternel changement.

Leurs courses entresuivies
Vont comme un flux et reflux,
Mais le printemps de nos vies
Passe et ne retourne plus,
Tout le soin des Destinées
Est de guider nos journées
Pas à pas vers le tombeau,
Et sans respecter personne,
Le Temps de sa faux moissonne
Ce que l'homme a de plus beau.

Tes louanges immortelles
Ni tes aimables appas
Qui te font chérir des belles
Ne t'en garantiront pas :
Crois-moi, tant que Dieu t'octroie
Cet âge comblé de joie
Qui s'enfuit de jour en jour,
Jouis du temps qu'il te donne,
Et ne crois pas en automne
Cueillir les fruits de l'amour.

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