L’horloge

Clock! You sinister god, terrifying, blank-faced,

And whose finger upbraids us, saying: “Never forget!

The tremulous ills with which your frightened heart’s beset

Soon will settle themselves like a target that’s placed;

Evanescent Pleasure will flee to a distance,

Just like a sylph does slipping out of sight;

Every moment consumes a pinch of the delight

Assigned to every man for his life’s subsistence.

And the Second, three thousand six hundred times each hour,

Whispers: Never forget! — With its insistent bore

Like an insect’s, Now now says: I am the Before

And I’ve pumped your life with my mendacious power!

Souviens-toi! Forget not! Prodigal! Vergisst nicht!

(All the known languages speaks my gullet of brass.)

Human wastrel, the minutes are coin mints en masse

From which no-one must leave but their pockets well-picked!

Don’t forget too that Time is a ravenous player

And he wins without cheating, straight up, that’s the rule!

Daylight dwindles, night grows; think now, don’t be a fool!

The void’s thirst’s never-ending; the water-clock runs dryer.

Soon the hour will sound when it’s Chance the sublime,

When it’s noble Virtue, your still-virginal bride,

When Repentance itself (oh, the last place to hide!),

When all say to you: Die, you old coward! It’s time!”