signs of stendhal

“The Assault” — a translation

This short poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay immediately reminded me of the 3.5km walk I made twice daily in France to go between the school where I worked and the ranch where I boarded. Though the route never changed, I consistently felt arrested — scared, even — by its “savage Beauty” and the pressure to take that in while somehow escaping my own eruption.

I wanted to send a French translation to the loved ones I left back in Provence but found none online, hence the making of my own. Perhaps some other Manosquin will Tumble into it and also recognize the gorgeous, haunted sensation of Beauty’s “assault.”

L’assaut

J’ai dû oublier comment les grenouilles doivent paraître
Après une année du silence, sinon je pense
Que je n’aurais pas osé à sortir au crépuscule
Toute seule sur ce chemin peu fréquenté.

Je suis embusquée par la Beauté. Qui va marcher
Entre moi et les cris des grenouilles?
Ô Beauté savage, laissez-moi continuer.
Que je suis femme timide, en passant
D’une maison à l’autre.