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The Debate Between Villon And His Heart

Who's that I hear?—It's me—Who?—Your heart

Hanging on by the thinnest thread

I lose all my strength, substance, and fluid

When I see you withdrawn this way all alone

Like a whipped cur sulking in the corner

Is it due to your mad hedonism?—

What's it to you?—I have to suffer for it—

Leave me alone—Why?—I'll think about it—

When will you do that?—When I've grown up—

I've nothing more to tell you—I'll survive without it—

 

What's your idea?—To be a good man—

You're thirty, for a mule that's a lifetime

You call that childhood?—No—Madness

Must have hold of you—By what, the halter?—

You don't know a thing—Yes I do—What?—Flies in milk

One's white, one's black, they're opposites—

That's all?—How can I say it better?

If that doesn't suit you I'll start over—

You're lost—Well I'll go down fighting—

I've nothing more to tell you—I'll survive without it—

 

I get the heartache, you the injury and pain

If you were just some poor crazy idiot

I'd be able to make excuses for you

You don't even care, all's one to you, foul or fair

Either your head's harder than a rock

Or you actually prefer misery to honor

Now what do you say to that?—

Once I'm dead I'll rise above it—

God, what comfort—What wise eloquence—

I've nothing more to tell you—I'll survive without it—

 

Why are you miserable?—Because of my miseries

When Saturn packed my satchel I think

He put in these troubles—That's mad

You're his lord and you talk like his slave

Look what Solomon wrote in his book

"A wise man" he says "has authority

Over the planets and their influence"—

I don't believe it, as they made me I'll be—

What are you saying?—Yes that's what I think—

I've nothing more to tell you—I'll survive without it—

 

Want to live?—God give me the strength—

It's necessary...—What is?—To feel remorse

Lots of reading—What kind?—Read for knowledge

Leave fools alone—I'll take your advice—

Or will you forget?—I've got it fixed in mind—

Now act before things go from bad to worse

I've nothing more to tell you—I'll survive without it.

f
Written by
Francois Villon
1431-1474 / French
Lines·Words
47·353
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