Villon’s Mother: Ballad of the Harps

to Our Lady

Empress of Earth, Lady of the Sky,
Queen of where Hell’s swamps are black and cold,
believe me when I say I humbly try
to be a Christian – take me in your fold,
though surely here in me there’s little gold!
Your mercy may redeem a poor upstart,
my Lady – for you make my sins depart,
they seem as nothing, since you are so kind.
Your goodness gives each soul a heavenly part,
and I shall live and die with this in mind.

Tell your son that I am his, though I
am not worth much – and ask him not to scold
me for my sins, but turning a blind eye
free pardon give – as happened, so I’m told,
to her of Egypt, and the clerk who sold
his soul – Theophilus – he was too smart
for his own good! But I’ll avoid such art,
O maiden pure, whose offspring now we find
in sacraments, unfolding our life’s chart.
And I shall live and die with this in mind.

My life is nothing, and that’s not a lie.
I don’t know anything, I’m poor and old,
can’t read – yet when I go to church nearby
and see two pictures, then I make so bold
to look at Paradise, and that to hold
much dearer, with its lovely harps. I start
to feel great joy – but where the damned souls smart
in depths of Hell – that makes my eyes go blind.
O Queen, the joy of faith you can impart,
and I shall live and die with this in mind.

Virgin, mother of our dear Lord thou art,
In whom was found the mortal counterpart.
Leaving the skies and all that’s set apart,
Living with us, to death he was resigned.
O he is our true Lord, and I shall part
Never, with all I know of him at heart.
And I shall live and die with this in mind.