Poetry

1. - As I did rove Quelvénic Grove
My toil was well rewarded:
I saw a doe wearing a blue
Cover that two stags guarded.
Both of them clerks, I dare remark.
Get up, Lord, you must withstand!
Hunt them at least, none of these beasts
Should desecrate your woodland! -

2. The three poor beasts, as noise increased
Fled the grove early that day,
Took up abode near the highroad,
Till a baker came that way.
- Give us some bread. It will be paid.
For this young girl is hungry.
She followed us. 'Twas perilous
To leave her room, most surely.

3. No one allows that she follows
Her own heart. She escaped.
Her kith and kin will call it sin
That her own life she shaped.
And, the poor thing, she may now sing,
Tonight she will cry sadly;
When tears are shed and all is said,
She'll die tomorrow, early. -


Translated from the Breton