Treasure Island

Jean Antoine de Baif

(19 February 1532 – 19 September 1589 / Venice)

Ces Yeux Ces Yeux, Doux Larrons De Mon Ame


Ces yeux ces yeux, doux larrons de mon ame,
M'ont eblouy de leur belle splendeur,
Astres fataux qui de malheur ou d'heur
Me vont comblant au plaisir de madame.

Au cueur d'hiver un printemps l'air embame
Ou que tournez ilz fichent leur ardeur,
Et quelque part qu'ilz baissent leur grandeur
Fleurit un pré mieux odorant que bame.

Les chastes feuz de ces freres jumeaux
Me retirant du naufrage des eaux
Par leur clarté de sauveté m'asseurent:

En leur saint feu mon vivre est allumé,
Mon vivre, las, qui sera consumé,
Quand leur destin arrestera qu'ilz meurent.

Submitted: Friday, May 11, 2012
Edited: Friday, May 11, 2012

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Ces Yeux Ces Yeux, Doux Larrons De Mon Ame by Jean Antoine de Baif )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  9. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  10. A Dream Within A Dream
    Edgar Allan Poe

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. Mirror image, Mario,Lucien,Rene Odekerken
  2. Weaver Of Waves, Saiom Shriver
  3. THAT PALM-TREE, MOHAMMAD SKATI
  4. Dune Fringed, Saiom Shriver
  5. Watery Arms, Saiom Shriver
  6. Wet With Words, George Egba
  7. From Chambered Shells, Saiom Shriver
  8. Blue Starred In The Blue Grass Spring Lu.., mary douglas
  9. Mist Clothed, Saiom Shriver
  10. Be A Man, Richard Provencher

Poem of the Day

poet Alfred Lord Tennyson

It little profits that an idle king,
By this still hearth, among these barren crags,
Match'd with an aged wife, I mete and dole
Unequal laws unto a savage race,
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]