WORLD WAR COVID
Poems, theirs and mine

Ballad of the Hanged, Ballade des pendus, by Francois Villon, 1431 - ?

Brother humans who after us subsist,
Harden not your heart against us,
For if you took pity on poor folk like us,
God might more likely grant you pardon.
You see us strung up here, five, six:
When our overstuffed flesh
Is since devoured and rotted,
And our bones turn to powder and ash. 
No-one laughs at our affliction,
But pray God all forgive us! 

We brothers beg you not hold us in disdain 
Though by Justice we’ve been slain. 
Anyhow, you must ascertain
That all men do not good sense retain.
Forgive us, we are well nigh on
To the Virgin Mary’s Son;
May His grace not parch for us,
Spare us hell’s lightning.
We are dead, no soul vex us;
But pray God all forgive us!! 

Rain has streaked and washed us,
Sun's blackened and dried;
Magpies and crows burst our eyes,
Plucked our beard and brows.
Never no more will we hang out;
But this way, that, as will the winds, 
Twisted nonstop by their carry,
More hen-pecked than a thimble.
Just don’t  join our fraternity;
But pray God all forgive us! 

Prince Jheeheesus who masters all,
Guard lest Hell master us: 
Neither lest we deal nor settle up.
Man, this here’s no joke, 
But pray God all forgive us!

IN FRENCH


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