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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=391750" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Le Testament: Ballade: Pour Robert d'Estouteville</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">A t dawn of day, when falcon shakes his wing,<br>M ainly from pleasure, and from noble usage,<br>B lackbirds too shake theirs then as they sing,<br>R eceiving their mates, mingling their plumage,<br>O, as the desires it lights in me now rage,<br>I 'd offer you, joyously, what befits the lover.<br>S ee how Love has written this very page:<br>E ven for this end are we come together.<br> <br>D oubtless, as my heart's lady you'll have being,<br>E ntirely now, till death consumes my age.<br>L aurel, so sweet, for my cause now fighting,<br>O live, so noble, removing all bitter foliage,<br>R eason does not wish me unused to owing,<br>E ven as I'm to agree with this wish, forever,<br>Duty to you, but rather grow used to serving:<br>Even for this end are we come together.<br> <br>And, what's more, when sorrow's beating<br>Down on me, through Fate's incessant rage,<br>Your sweet glance its malice is assuaging,<br>Nor more or less than wind blows smoke away.<br>As, in your field, I plant I lose no grain,<br>For the harvest resembles me, and ever<br>God orders me to plough, and sow again:<br>Even for this end are we come together.<br> <br>Princess, listen to this I now maintain:<br>That my heart and yours will not dissever:<br>So much I presume of you, and claim:<br>Even for this end are we come together.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Fran%C3%A7ois+Villon">François Villon</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=391750" data-title="Le Testament: Ballade: Pour Robert d'Estouteville de François Villon" data-description="A t dawn of day, when falcon shakes his wing,
M ainly from pleasure, and from noble usage,
B lackbirds too shake theirs then as they sing,
R eceiving their mates, mingling their plumage,
O, as the desires it lights in me now rage,
I 'd offer you, ..."></div>
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