The Lament of the Swan
Planctus Cygni
Anon, French, 9th century
| Clangam, filii Ploratione una Alitis cygni, Qui transfretavit aequora. O quam amare Lamentabatur, arida Se dereliquisse Florigera Et petisse alta Maria; Ajens: ‘Infelix sum Avicula, Heu mihi, quid agam Misera? Pennis soluta Inniti Lucida non potero Hic in stilla. Undis quatior, Procellis Hinc inde nunc allidor Exulata. Angor inter arta Gurgitum cacumina. Gemens alatizo Intuens mortifera, Non conscendens supera. Cernens copiosa Piscium legumina, Non queo in denso Gurgitum assumere Alimenta optima. Ortus, occasus, Plagae poli, Administrate Lucida sidera. Sufflagitate Oriona, Effugitantes Nubes occiduas.’ Dum haec cogitarem tacita, Venit rutila adminicula aurora. Oppitulata afflamine Coepit virium Recuperare fortia. Ovatizaans Jam agebatur Inter alta Et consueta nubium Sidera. Hilarata Ac jucundata, Nimis facta, Penetrabatur marium Flumina. Dulcimode cantitans Volitavit ad amoena Arida. Concurrite omnia Alitum et conclamate Agmina: Regi magno Sit gloria. |
O children, I shall sing a lamentation of a winged swan which crossed the great waters. O how bitterly it lamented, having relinquished the dry flowery land and sought the high seas; crying: ‘Unhappy small bird that I am, alas, what may I do in my misery? I cannot now rest on my wings all brightness dissolves in the rain. I am shaken by the waves, storms buffet me hither and thither an exile. I am narrowly enclosed within the canyons of the great waves. Crying, my wings beat, considering death, not mounting above it. I see abundant good food for the fishes, But I may not, in the deep whirlpools, gather this delicate food. O East, O West, O the regions of the poles, give to me the brightness of the stars; demand of Orion, that they flee and be forgotten, these destroying clouds.’ While the bird fell silent, thinking on these things Came the first blush of rescuing dawn. A whispering breeze assisted, the bird received strength and recovered more strongly. Celebrating now it was carried among the high familiar crowd of stars. Cheerful and joyous beyond measure, it passed through the streams of the seas. Singing very sweetly it flew to to the pleasant dry land. Join together, all winged creatures, and sing together all of you: To the mighty King be glory. |
translation by Kate Brown with the help of Isobel Preece
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