Frederic Mistral Part 9

"Segnour, a la fin ta coulero Largo si tron Sus nosti front: E dins la niue nosto galero Pico d'a pro Contro li ro."[13]

Another peculiar stanza is exhibited in _Lou Prego-Dieu_:--

"Ero un tantost d'aquest estieu Que ni vihave ni dourmieu: Fasieu miejour, tan que me plaise, Lou caba.s.su Toucant lou su, A l'aise."[14]

Perhaps the most remarkable of all in point of originality, not to say queerness, is _Lou Blad de Luno_. The rhyme in _lin_ is repeated throughout seventeen stanzas, and of course no word is used twice.

"La luno barbano Debano De lano.

S'entend peralin L'aigo que lalejo E batarelejo Darrie lou moulin.

La luno barbano Debano De lin."[15]

The little poem, _Aubencho_, is interesting as offering two rhymes in its nine lines.

Mistral's sonnets offer some peculiarities. He has one composed of lines of six syllables, others of eight, besides those considered regular in French, consisting, namely, of twelve syllables. The following sonnet addressed to Roumania appears to be unique in form:--

"Quand lou chaple a pres fin, que lou loup e la russi An rousiga lis os, lou souleu flamejant Esvalis gaiamen lou brumage destrussi E lou prat bataie tourno leu verdejant.

"Apres lou long trepe di Turc emai di Russi T'an visto ansin renaisse, o nacioun de Trajan, Coume l'astre lusent, que sort dou negre eslussi, Eme lou nouvelun di chato de quinge an.

"E li raco latino A ta lengo argentino An couneigu l'ounour que dins toun sang i'avie;

"E t'apelant germano, La Prouvenco roumano Te mando, o Roumanio, un rampau d'oulivie."[16]

It would be a hopeless task for an English translator to attempt versions of these poems that should reproduce the original strophe forms. A few such translations have been made into German, which possesses a much greater wealth of rhyme than English. Let us repeat that it must not be imputed to Mistral as a fault that he is too clever a versifier. His strophes are not the artificial complications of the Troubadours, and if these greatly varied forms cost him effort to produce, his art is most marvellously concealed. More likely it is that the almost inexhaustible abundance of rhymes in the Provencal, and the ease of construction of merely syllabic verse, explain in great measure his fertility in the production of stanzas. Some others of the Felibres, even Aubanel, in our opinion, have produced verse that is very ordinary in quality. Verse may be made too easily in this dialect, and fluent rhymed language that merely expresses commonplace sentiment may readily be mistaken for poetry.

The wealth of rhyme in the Provencal language appears to be greater than in any other form of Romance speech. As compared with Italian and Spanish, it may be noted that the Provencal has no proparoxytone words, and hence a whole cla.s.s of words is brought into the two categories possible in Provencal. Though the number of different vowels and diphthongs is greater than in these two languages, only three consonants are found as finals, _n_, _r_, _s_ (_l_ very rarely). The consequent great abundance of rhymes is limited by an insistence upon the rich rhyme to an extent scarcely attainable in French; in fact, the merely sufficient rhyme is very rare. It is unfortunate that so many of the feminine rhymes terminate in _o_. In the _Poem of the Rhone_, composed entirely in feminine verses, pa.s.sages occur where nine successive lines end in this letter, and the verses in _o_ vastly out-number all others.

In this unrhymed poem, a.s.sonance is very carefully avoided.

The play, _Queen Joanna_, is remarkable among the productions of Mistral as being the only work of any length he has produced that makes extensive use of the Alexandrine. In fact, the versification is precisely that of any modern French play written in verse; and we may note here the liberties as to caesura and enjambements which are now usual in French verse. We remark elsewhere the lack of independence in the dialect of Avignon, that its vocabulary alone gives it life. Not only has it no syntax of its own, but it really has been a difficulty of the poet in translating his own Alexandrines into French prose, not to produce verses; nor has he always avoided them. Here, for instance, is a distich which not only becomes French when translated word for word, but also reproduces exactly metre and rhyme:--

"En un mot tout me dis que lou ceu predestino Un revieure de glri a terro latino.

"En un mot tout me dit que le ciel prestine Un renouveau de gloire a terre latine."

The effectiveness, the charm, and the beauty of this verse, for those who understand and feel the language, cannot be denied; and if this poetic literature did not meet a want, it could not exist and grow as it does. The fact that the prose literature is so slight, so scanty, is highly significant. The poetry that goes straight to the heart, that speaks to the inner feeling, that calls forth a response, must be composed in the home speech. It is exceedingly unlikely that a prose literature of any importance will ever grow up in Provence. No great historians or dramatists, and few novelists, will ever write in this dialect. The people of Provence will acquire their knowledge and their general higher culture in French literature. But they will doubtless enjoy that poetry best which sings to them of themselves in the speech of their firesides. Mistral has endowed them with a verse language that has high artistic possibilities, some of which he has realized most completely. The music of his verse is the music that expresses the nature of his people. It is the music of the _gai savoir_. Brightness, merriment, movement, quick and sudden emotion,--not often deep or sustained,--exuberance and enthusiasm, love of light and life, are predominant; and the verse, absolutely free from strong and heavy combinations of consonants, ripples and glistens with its pretty terminations, full of color, full of vivacity, full of the sunny south.

[Footnote 6:

In the castle at Tarascon there is a queen, there is a fairy, In the castle of Tarascon There is a fairy in hiding.

The one who shall open the prison wherein she is confined, The one who shall open for her, Perhaps she will love him.

[Footnote 7: The s.h.i.+p comes from Majorca with a cargo of oranges: the mainmast of the s.h.i.+p has been crowned with green garlands: safely the s.h.i.+p arrives from Majorca.]

[Footnote 8: There blows, in this age, a proud wind, which would make a mere hash of all herbs: we, the good Provencals, defend the old home over which our swallows hover.]

[Footnote 9: The bishop of Avignon, Monseigneur Grimoard, hath built a tower at Barbentane, which excites the rage of the sea wind and the northern blast, and strips the Spirit of Evil of his power. Solid upon the rock, strong, square, freed of demons, it lifts its fierce brow sunward; likewise upon the windows, in case the devil might wish to enter thereby, Monseigneur Grimoard has had his mitre carved.]

[Footnote 10: John of Gonfaron, captured by corsairs in the Janissaries, served seven years. Among the Turks a man must use his skin to chains and rust.]

[Footnote 11: Prisoner of the Saracens, accoutred like a gypsy, with a crimson turban, dried by the white sun, turning the creaking water-wheel, Blac prayed thus.]

[Footnote 12: A son of Maillane, if I had come in the days of Queen Joanna when she was in her springtime and a sovereign such as they were in those days, with no other diplomacy than her bright glance, in love with her, I should have found, lucky I, so fine a song that the fair Joanna would have given me a mantle to appear in the castles.]

[Footnote 13: This poem will be found translated in full at the end of the book.]

[Footnote 14:

It was an afternoon of this summer, While I neither woke nor slept, I was taking my noonday rest, as is my pleasure, My head touching the ground at ease.

[Footnote 15:

The ghostly moon is unwinding wool.

Afar off is heard the gurgling water shaking the clapper behind the mill.

The ghostly moon is unwinding flax.

[Footnote 16: When the slaughter is over, when the wolf and the buzzard have gnawed the bones, the flaming sun scatters merrily the hurtful vapors and the battlefield soon becomes green once more.

After the long trampling of the Turks and Russians, thou, too, art seen thus reborn, O nation of Trajan, like the s.h.i.+ning star coming forth from the dark eclipse, with the youth of a maiden of fifteen.

And the Latin races, in thy silvery speech, have recognized the honor that lay in thy blood; and calling thee sister, the Romance Provence sends thee, Roumania, an olive branch.]

CHAPTER V

MISTRAL'S DICTIONARY OF THE PROVENcAL LANGUAGE

AU MIEJOUR

Sant Jan, vengue meissoun, abro si fi de joio; Amount sus l'aigo-vers lou pastre pensatieu, En l'ounour dou pas, enausso uno mount-joio E marco li pasquie mounte a pa.s.sa l'estieu.

Emai ieu, en laurant--e quichant moun anchoio, Per lou noum de Prouvenco ai fa co que poudieu; E, Dieu de moun pres-fa m'aguent douna la voio, Dins la rego, a geinoui, vuei rende graci a Dieu.

En terro, fin qu'au sistre, a cava moun araire; E lou brounze rouman e l'or dis emperaire Treluson au souleu dintre lou blad que sort....

O pople dou Miejour, escouto moun arengo: Se vos recounquista l'emperi de ta lengo, Per t'arnesca de nu, pesco en aqueu Tresor.

"Saint John, at harvest time, kindles his bonfires; high up on the mountain slope the thoughtful shepherd places a pile of stones in honor of the country, and marks the pastures where he has pa.s.sed the summer.

"I, too, tilling and living frugally, have done what I could for the fame of Provence; and G.o.d having permitted me to complete my task, to-day, on my knees in the furrow, I offer thanks to Him.