Chapter XX: Appendix

The following extract, translated from the biographical notice of Frédéric Mistral, written for “La Grande Encyclopédie” by Monsieur Paul Mariéton, for many years Chancelier des Félibres and a French poet and writer of note, takes up the history of Félibrige where the Memoirs leave off:

* * * * *

The unanimity of votes accorded to _Mireille_[20] by the members of the French Academy set the seal of sanction to the Provençal Renaissance, and reinforced Mistral himself with faith and resolution to carry out his mission. Up till that time he had said truly, as in the opening strophe of _Mireille_, that he “sang only for the shepherds and people of the soil!”--“What will they say at Arles?” was his one thought as he wrote _Mireille_. But before the completion of his epic his ambition for his native tongue had widened. The notes in the Appendix and the French translation published with the Provençal testify to this fact. Already he was beginning to realise the leading part he was about to play in the society founded at Font-Ségugne. The school of Roumanille, of which, in virtue of _Mireille_, Mistral was now chief, added to its members daily.

The rules of the language were now fixed, the language of the Félibres, and thanks to _L’Armana_ (an annual publication initiated and edited by Roumanille) were little by little adopted by the people. This classic vulgate--with which Mistral, by pruning and enriching his native dialect, had, like another Dante, dowered his country--had become immortal, having given birth to a masterpiece. It now remained to give a national tendency to the movement. It was by raising the ambitions of a race, and annexing the sympathy of the “Félibres” among them, by showing them their ancestry from remotest times, and bringing to light their inalienable rights, that Mistral evolved out of a literary renaissance a great patriotic cause.

With his _Ode aux Catalans_ (1859) and his _Chant de la Coupe_, Mistral sealed the alliance between the Provençals and the Catalans, their brethren both of race and tongue. This was ratified when in 1868 Mistral, together with Roumieux, Paul Meyer, and Bonaparte Wyse, met at the Barcelona fête in response to the call of the Catalonians.

SONG OF THE CUP.[21]

Men of Provence, this Cup has come to us
Pledge of our Catalonian brothers’ troth,
Then let us each in turn drain from it thus
The pure wine of our native vineyard’s growth.

O sacred cup
Filled brimming up!
Pour out to overflowing
Enthusiasms glowing,
The energy pour out that doth belong
Of right unto the strong.

Of an ancestral people proud and free
Perchance we are the end, we faithful few:
And should the “Félibres” fall, it well may be
The end and downfall of our nation too.

O sacred cup, &c.

Yet, in a race that germinates again
We are perchance the first-fruits of our earth,
We are perchance the pillars that maintain,
The knights that lead, the country of our birth.

O sacred cup, &c.

Pour out for us the golden hopes once more,
The visions that our youth was wont to see,
And, with remembrance of the days of yore,
Faith in the days that are about to be.

O sacred cup, &c.

Pour for us, mingled with thy generous wine,
Knowledge of Truth and Beauty, both in one,
And lofty joys and ravishments divine
That laugh at Death and bid its fears begone.

O sacred cup, &c.

Pour out for us the gift of poesy,
That all things living we may fitly sing;
The only true ambrosial nectar she
That changes man, to god transfiguring.

O sacred cup, &c.

Ye that at last with us consenting are,
Now for the glory of this land most dear,
O Catalonian brothers, from afar
Unite with us in this communion here.

O sacred cup, &c.

(Trans. Alma Strettell.)

Thus little by little the Félibrige, first started by Roumanille and promoted by his political pamphlets, his Christmas Songs and Popular Tales, was developed by Mistral into a national movement. This was shown clearly in his second important work, _Calandal_, a poem in twelve cantos (1867), which from that time divided the honours with _Mireille_.

The two poems were in striking contrast one to the other. _Mireille_ depicted the Provence of the Crau and the Camargue, _Calandal_ the Provence of the mountains and the sea. _Mireille_ was virgin honey, _Calandal_ the lion’s mane. In the latter poem, Mistral attempted to give perhaps too much local colour to please the general public, in spite of the incomparable style. The reception of this work by the Félibres, however, was enthusiastic, the heroic symbolism and eloquence of the poet, speaking in the name of all vindicators of his race, gave birth to a set of mystic patriots and created the Félibréen religion.

Little by little, thanks to the vital impulse given by Mistral, Félibrige crossed the Rhône. After having aroused some fervent proselytes, such as Louis Roumieux and Albert Arnavielle at Nîmes and Alais, it resulted at Montpellier in the inauguration of the “Society for studying Ancient Languages,” under the auspices of Baron de Tourtoulon. The work of this group scientifically justified the raising and purifying of the Oc language. Strengthened by the support of the learned and lettered officials, up to that period refractory, the Félibrige movement, already Provençal and Catalan, now became Latin also.

The memorable occasion of the Centenary Fête of Petrarch in 1874 at Avignon, presided over by Aubanel and initiated by Monsieur de Berluc-Perussis, was the first international consecration of the new literature and of the glory of Mistral.

A large assembly of the philological Société Romane in 1875, followed by the Latin Fêtes at Montpellier in 1876, at which the young wife of the poet was elected Queen of the Félibres, definitely confirmed the importance of a poetic renaissance which the author of _Mireille_ and _Calandal_ had developed from a small intimate society into a wide social movement.

Three years previously (1875) the intellectual sovereignty of Mistral had impressed itself on all the south of France by the publication of his collected poems “Lis Isclo d’Or” (“The Golden Isles”) which revealed the serene genius of the master, his extraordinary versatility and his unquestionable title to represent his race.

Shortly after, at Avignon, the poet was proclaimed Grand Master (_Capoulié_) of the literary federation of the Meridional provinces, and became the uncontested chief of a crusade of the Oc country for the reconquest of its historic dignity and position.

The sort of pontificate with which Mistral was from henceforth invested in no way arrested the outflowing of his songs. A new poem, _Nerto_, lighter in form than hitherto, in the style of the romantic epics of the renaissance, suddenly drew the attention of the critics again to the poet of Provence, and the charm and infinite variety of his genius.

Having already compared him to Homer, to Theocritus, and to Longus, they now found in his work the illusive seduction of Ariosto. A visit that he paid to Paris in 1884, after an absence of twenty years, sealed his fame in France and his glory in Provence. He was surrounded by an army of followers. Paris, which knew hitherto only the poet, now recognised a new literature in the person of its chief. The French Academy crowned _Nerto_ as before they had crowned _Mireille_. Mistral celebrated there in the French capital the fourth centenary of the union of Provence and France; “as a joining together of one principality to another principality,” according to the terms of the ancient historical contract.

He returned to his Provence consecrated chief of a people. The Provençal Renaissance continued to extend daily. Mistral endowed the movement at last with the scientific and popular weapon essential for its defence, a national dictionary. It was the crowning work of his life, “The Treasury of Félibrige.” All the various dialects of the Oc language are represented in this vast collection of an historic tongue, rich, melodious, vital, rescued and reinstated by its indefatigable defenders at a moment when all conspired to hasten its decrepitude.

All the meanings and acceptations, accompanied by examples culled from every writer in the Oc language, every idiom and proverb, are patiently collected together in this encyclopædic _tresaurus_ which could never be replaced.

The Institute awarded him a prize of four hundred francs.

In 1890 Mistral published a work he had for some time contemplated, _La Rèino Jano_ (_Queen Joan_) a Provençal tragedy. In spite of the rare beauty and picturesque eloquence of many of the cantos, this poem, evoking as it does the Angevine Provence of the fourteenth century, obtained only half the success of _Nerto_ from the public. The French do not share with the Félibres the cult of Queen Joan.

If this essentially national tragedy was judged in Paris a merely moderately good drama, it must be remembered that the Parisians did not take into account the familiar popularity which Mistral knew to exist for his heroine among his own people.

While awaiting the production of _Queen Joan_ at the Roman Theatre of Orange, restored by the Félibres, Mistral continued the active side of his work.

The spreading of the movement on all sides called for more influential organs than either the Almanac or the annual publication. After having contributed for forty years to the _Armana_ and having presided at the inauguration of the Félibréen Review in 1885, he became principal editor in 1890 of a Provençal paper in Avignon, _L’Aioli_, which under his auspices became the quarterly monitor of Félibrige.

While still retaining the leadership of the movement, Mistral published here and there sundry chapters of his Memoirs, also exhortations to his people, lectures, poems, and chronicles.

In 1897 he published another poem, like the former seven years in the making, _Le Poème du Rhône_. It is the most delicate and most ingenuously epic of his productions. Above all, he showed in this work his profound symbolism, revealed not only in the depth and breadth of his thought, but in the originality of his versification. Taking the traditions of the country, he has woven them into the winding silk cord of the living, glistening, eternal Rhône, this poem of the river’s course. He has inspired his people to restore the honour of these traditions by the radiant example and fruitful labour of his own life.

The Memoirs best reveal the deep roots of his patriotism. In describing his harmonious existence, the master relates his experience both as a celebrated writer and as a Provençal farmer. Portraits of great men and of great peasants stand out in his record. One can judge of him as a prose writer by the Tales and Addresses appearing here and there during a period of forty years, pages which often equalled in beauty the finest songs of the poet. His letters also, which sowed unceasingly the good grain of the Renaissance, will, when published one day, show even better than the translation of his verse what a great writer the French have in Mistral.

His life after all has been his finest poem. In order to bring about the realisation of his ideal, the raising of his country, he has in turn shown himself poet, orator, philologist, and, above all, patriot. The “new life” that his work has infused into the body of Félibrige has not only regenerated his own Provence by erecting a social ideal, it has also promoted the diffusion of a patriotic sentiment which has become general throughout France, and which may be defined as federalism or simply decentralisation. The ideas of Mistral on this subject of local centres permitting the free expansion of individual energies are well known. It can only be accomplished, according to his theory, by a new constituency, the electors of the existing system being too taken up organising the redivision of the departments to enter into other questions. But he has always refused to become the leader of a political movement. “He who possesses his language holds the key which shall free him from his chains,” Mistral has always said, meaning thereby that in the language dwells the soul of a people. Thus restricting himself to the leadership of a linguistic movement he desired to remain always a poet. It is the purity of his fame which has given such power to his position. By the charm of his personality he won large crowds, just as by his writings he charmed the lettered and the educated. For he was always possessed by a profound belief in the vitality of his language and faith in a renewal of its glory, and absolutely opposed in this respect to Jasmin, who invariably proclaimed himself as the last of the poets of the Oc tongue. If Mistral is not the only worker in the Provençal Renaissance, it is at all events owing to his genius that the movement took wing and lived. Before he arose the ancient and illustrious Oc language was in the same deplorable condition as were the Arenas of Nîmes and of Arles at the beginning of the century. Degraded, unsteady, enveloped by parasite hovels, their pure outline was being obliterated by the disfiguring leprosy. One day came reform, and, taking control, swept away the hovels and rubbish, restoring to their bygone splendour these amphitheatres of the old Romans.

Even so, barbarous jargons had defaced the idiom of Provence. Then with his following of brilliant and ardent patriots Mistral came and dispersed the degenerating _patois_, restoring to its former beauty the Greek purity of form belonging to the edifice of our ancestors and fitting it for present use.

PAUL MARIETON.

Every year in May, on the Feast of Sainte-Estelle, the four branches of Félibrige are convoked to important assizes at some place on Provençal soil. At the end of the banquet which follows the floral sports, and after the address of the chief, the latter raises high the Grail of the poetic mysteries, and intones the _Song of the Cup_. The hymn of the faith and cause of the race is taken up gravely

and the refrain joined in by all the company. Then the cup goes round fraternally and each member, before touching it with his lips, in turn rehearses his vow of fidelity.

The assizes of Sainte-Estelle are followed by a meeting of the consistory, who elect the new members. The consistory is composed of a chief or _capoulié_, of a chancellor, and fifty senior members chosen from among the four branches. Every branch, Provence, Languedoc, Aquitaine, and the affiliated branch of La Catalogne, is presided over by its own syndicate, and nominates an assistant to the _capoulié_. Félibrige numbers to-day many thousand members, without counting the foreign associations in other parts of France, such as the Félibres of the west, inaugurated by Renan in 1884, and the Cigales of Paris, first started by the Provenceaux of that city, as Paul Arène declared:

“Pour ne pas perdre l’accent, nous fondâmes la Cigale....”

The classic cicada is now the badge of the Order and is worn by all members at their fêtes.

Every seven years takes place a great meeting and floral feast, on which occasion three first prizes are awarded for poetry, prose, and Félibréen work, and a Queen of Félibrige is elected.

Their queen presides at the principal assizes of the cause. The first to be chosen was Madame Mistral, the young wife of the chief, at Montpellier in 1878. The second was Mademoiselle Thérèse Roumanille (Madame Boissière), daughter of the poet. The third was Madame Gasquet, _née_ Mademoiselle Girard; and the fourth and present queen is Madame Bischoffsheim, _née_ Mademoiselle de Chevignè. A procession of Félibresses form an escort to the reigning queen.

The Provençal Renaissance has counted many distinguished women writers and poets among its members. Among the first of these _trouveresses_ were Madame Roumanille, wife of the poet, whose work was crowned at the Fête of Apt in 1863; Madame d’Arband (1863); Mademoiselle Riviére, whose “Belugo” was sung by all our leaders (1868); Madame Lazarin Daniel, Félibresse of the Crau; Madame Gautier-Brémond of Tarascon, celebrated for her “Velo-blanco” (1887); not to mention the many whose names in recent years have been an honour to the cause.

It was on the occasion of the Fête at Montpellier, May 25, 1878, that the “Hymne à la Race Latine” was recited on the Place du Peyron, that song which has since become a national possession and pride.

TO THE LATIN RACE.[22]

Arise, arise renewed, O Latin race,
Beneath the great cope of thy golden sun
The russet grape is bubbling in the press,
And gushing forth the wine of God shall run.

With hair all loosened to the sacred breeze
From Tabor’s Mount--thou art the race of light,
That lives of joy, and round about whose knees
Enthusiasm springs, and pure delight;
The Apostolic race, that through the land
Sets all the bells a-ringing once again;
Thou art the trumpet that proclaims--the hand
That scatters far and wide the bounteous grain.

Arise, arise renewed, O Latin race, &c.

Thy mother-tongue, that mighty stream that flows
Afar through seven branches, never dies;
But light and love outpouring, onward goes,
An echo that resounds from Paradise.
O Roman daughter of the People-King,
Thy golden language, it is still the song
That human lips unceasingly shall sing--
While words yet have a meaning--ages long.

Arise, arise renewed, &c.

Thy blood illustrious on every side
Hath been outpoured for justice and for right;
Thy mariners across the distant tide
Have sailed to bring an unknown world to light.
A hundred times the pulsing of thy thought
Hath shattered and brought low thy kings of yore;
Ah! but for thy divisions, who had sought
Ever to rule thee, or to frame thy law!

Arise, arise renewed, &c.

Kindling thy torch at radiances divine
From the high stars, ’tis thou hast given birth,
In shapes of marble and in pictured line,
To Beauty’s self, incarnate upon earth.
The native country thou of god-like Art,
All graces and all sweetness come from thee,
Thou art the source of joy for every heart,
Yea, thou art youth, and ever more shalt be.

Arise, arise renewed, &c.

With thy fair women’s pure and noble forms
The world’s pantheons everywhere are stored;
And at thy triumphs, yea, thy tears, thy storms,
Men’s hearts must palpitate with one accord;
The earth’s in blossom when thy meadows bloom,
And o’er thy follies every one goes mad;
But when thy glory is eclipsed in gloom
The whole world puts on mourning and is sad.

Arise, arise renewed, &c.

Thy limpid sea, that sea serene, where fleet
The whitening sails innumerable ply,
That crisps the soft, wet sand about thy feet,
And mirrors back the azure of the sky,
That ever-smiling sea, God poured its flood
From out His splendour with a lavish hand,
To bind the brown-hued peoples of thy blood
With one unbroken, scintillating band.

Arise, arise renewed, &c.

Upon thy sun-kissed slopes, on every side
The olive grows, the tree of peace divine,
And all thy lands are crownèd with the pride
Of thy prolific, broadly-spreading vine.
O Latin race, in faithful memory
Of that thy glorious, ever-shining past,
Arise in hope toward thy destiny,
One brotherhood beneath the Cross at last!

Arise, arise renewed, O Latin race,
Beneath the great cope of thy golden sun!
The russet grape is bubbling in the press,
And gushing forth the wine of God shall run!

(Trans. Alma Strettell.)

To conclude with the words of Mistral quoted from one of his addresses:

“If thou wouldst that the blood of thy race maintain its virtue, hold fast to thy historic tongue.... In language there lies a mystery, a precious treasure.... Every year the nightingale renews his feathers, but he changes not his note.”

C. E. MAUD.

MISTRAL’S POEMS IN THE PROVENÇAL

GREVANÇO

II

(_From_ “Lis Isclo d’Or.”)

Oh! vers li plano de tousello
Leissas me perdre pensatiéu,
Dins li grand blad plen de rousello
Ounte drouloun iéu me perdiué!

Quaucun me bousco
De tousco en tousco
En recitant soun angelus;
E, cantarello,
Li calandrello
Ièu vau seguènt dins lou trelus ...

Ah! pauro maire,
Bèu cor amaire,
Cridant moun noum t’ausirai plus!

LES SAINTES-MARIES (_Mireille_).

Nautre, li sorre emé li fraire
Que lou seguian pèr tout terraire,
Sus uno ratamalo, i furour de la mar,
E sènso velo e sènso remo,
Fuguerian embandi. Li femo
Toumbavian un riéu de lagremo;
Lis ome vers lou cèu pourtavon soun regard.

Uno ventado tempestouso
Sus la marino sóuvertouso
Couchavo lou batèu: Marciau e Savournin
Soun ageinouia sus la poupo;
Apensamenti, dins sa roupo
Lou vièi Trefume s’agouloupo;
Contro éu èro asseta l’evesque Massemin.

Dre sus lou tèume, aquéu Lazàri
Que de la toumbo e dóu susàri
Avié’ncaro garda la mourtalo palour,
Sèmblo afrounta lou gourg que reno:
Em’éu la nau perdudo enmeno
Marto sa sorre, e Madaleno,
Couchado en un cantoun, que plouro sa doulour.

Contro uno ribo sènso roco,
Alleluia! la barco toco;
Sus l’areno eigalouso aqui nous amourran
E cridan tóuti: Nòsti tèsto
Qu’as póutira de la tempèsto,
Fin-qu’au coutèu li vaqui lèsto
A prouclama ta lèi, o Crist! Te lou juran!

A-n-aquèu noum, de jouïssènço,
La noblo terro de Prouvènço
Parèis estrementido; à-n-aquéu crid nouvèu,
E lou bouscas e lou campèstre
An trefouli dins tout soun èstre,
Coume un chin qu’en sentènt soun mèstre
Ié cour à l’endavans e ié fai lou bèu-bèu.

La mar avié jita d’arcèli ...
Pater noster, qui es in cœli,--
A nosto longo fam mandères un renos;
A nosto set, dins lis engano
Faguères naisse uno fountano;
E miraclouso, e lindo, e sano,
Gisclo enca dins la glèiso ounte soun nòstis os!

MAGALI.

O Magali, ma tant amado,
Mete la tèsto au fenestroun!
Escouto un pau aquesto aubado
De tambourin e de vióuloun.

Es plen d’estello, aperamount!
L’auro es toumbado,
Mai lis estello paliran,
Quand te veiran!

--Pas mai que dóu murmur di broundo
De toun aubado iéu fau cas!
Mai iéu m’envau dins la mar bloundo
Me faire anguielo de roucas.

--O Magali! se tu te fas
Lou pèis de l’oundo,
Iéu, lou pescaire me farai,
Te pescarai!

--Oh! mai, se tu te fas pescaire,
Ti vertoulet quand jitaras,
Iéu me farai l’aucèu voulaire,
M’envoularai dins li campas.

--O Magali, se tu te fas
L’aucèu de l’aire,
Iéu lou cassaire me farai,
Te cassarai.

--I perdigau, i bouscarido,
Se vènes, tu, cala ti las,
Iéu me farai l’erbo flourido
E m’escoundrai dins li pradas.

--O Magali, se tu te fas
La margarido,
Iéu l’aigo lindo me farai,
T’arrousarai.

--Se tu te fas l’eigueto lindo,
Iéu me farai lou nivoulas,
E lèu m’enanarai ansindo
A l’Americo, perabas!

--O Magali, se tu t’envas
Alin is Indo,
L’auro de mar iéu me farai,
Te pourtarai!

--Se tu te fas la marinado,
Iéu fugirai d’un autre las:
Iéu me farai l’escandihado
Dóu grand soulèu que found lou glas!

--O Magali, se tu te fas
La souleiado,
Lou verd limbert iéu me farai,
E te béurai!

--Se tu te rèndes l’alabreno
Que se rescound dins lou bartas,
Iéu me rendrai la luno pleno
Que dins la niue fai lume i masc!

--O Magali, se tu fas
Luno sereno,
Iéu bello nèblo me farai,
T’acatarai.

--Mai se la nèblo m’enmantello,
Tu, pèr acò, noun me tendras
Iéu, bello roso vierginello,
M’espandirai dins l’espinas!

--O Magali, se tu te fas
La roso bello,
Lou parpaioun iéu me farai,
Te beisarai.

--Vai, calignaire, courre, courre!
Jamai, amai m’agantaras:
Iéu, de la rusco d’un grand roure
Me vestirai dins lou bouscas.

--O Magali, se tu te fas
L’aubre di mourre,
Iéu lou clot d’èurre me farai,
T’embrassarai!

--Se me vos prene à la brasseto,
Rèn qu’un vièi chaine arraparas ...
Iéu me farai blanco moungeto
Dóu mounastié dóu grand Sant Blas!

--O Magali, se tu te fas
Mounjo blanqueto,
Iéu, capelan, counfessarai,
E t’ausirai!

--Se dóu couvènt passes li porto,
Tóuti li mounjo trouvaras
Qu’à moun entour saran pèr orto,
Car en susàri me veiras!

--O Magali, se tu te fas
La pauro morto,
Adounc la terro me farai,
Aqui t’aurai!

--Aro coumence enfin de crèire
Que noun me parles en risènt.
Vaqui moun aneloun de vèire
Per souvenènço, o bèu jouvènt!

--O Magali, me fas de bèn!...
Mai, tre te vèire,
Ve lis estello, o Magali,
Coume an pali!

SOULOMI.

SUS LA MORT DE LAMARTINE.

Quand l’ouro dóu tremount es vengudo pèr l’astre,
Sus li mourre envahi pèr lou vèspre, li pastre
Alargon sis anouge e si fedo e si can;
E dins li baisso palunenco
Lou grouün rangoulejo en bramadisso unenco:
“Aquéu soulèu èro ensucant!”

Di paraulo de Diéu magnanime escampaire,
Ansin, o Lamartine, o moun mèstre, o moun paire,
En cantico, en acioun, en lagremo, en soulas,
Quand aguerias à noste mounde
Escampa de lumiero e d’amour soun abounde,
E que lou mounde fuguè las,

Cadun jitè soun bram dins la nèblo prefoundo,
Cadun vous bandiguè la pèiro de sa foundo,
Car vosto resplendour nous fasié mau is iue,
Car uno estello que s’amosso,
Car un diéu clavela, toujour agrado en foço,
E li grapaud amon la niue....

E’m’acò, l’on veguè de causo espetaclouso!
Eu, aquelo grand font de pouësio blouso
Qu’avié rejouveni l’amo de l’univers,
Li jóuini pouèto riguèron
De sa malancounié proufetico, e diguèron
Que sabié pas faire li vers.

De l’Autisme Adounai éu sublime grand-prèire
Que dins sis inne sant enaurè nòsti crèire
Sus li courdello d’or de l’arpo de Sioun,
En atestant lis Escrituro
Li devot Farisen cridèron sus l’auturo
Que n’avié gens de religioun.

Eu, lou grand pietadous, que, sus la catastrofo
De nòstis ancian rèi, avié tra sis estrofo
E qu’en mabre poumpous i’avié fa’n mausoulèu,
Dóu Reialisme li badaire
Trouvèron á la fin qu’èro un descaladaire,
E tóuti s’aliunchèron lèu.

Eu, lou grand óuratour, la voues apoustoulico,
Que faguè dardaia lou mot de Republico
Sus lou front, dins lou cèu di pople tresanant,
Pèr uno estranjo fernesio
Tóuti li chin gasta de la Demoucracio
Lou mourdeguèron en renant.

Eu, lou grand ciéutadin que dins la goulo en flamo
Avié jita soun viéure e soun cors e soun amo,
Pèr sauva dóu voulcan la patrio en coumbour,
Quand demandè soun pan, pechaire!
Li bourgés e li gros l’apelèron manjaire,
E s’estremèron dins soun bourg.

Adounc, en se vesènt soulet dins soun auvàri,
Doulènt, emé sa crous escalè soun Calvàri ...
E quàuqui bònis amo, eiça vers l’embruni.
Entendeguèron un long gème,
E pièi, dins lis espàci, aqueste crid suprème:
Heli! lamma sabacthani!

Mai degun s’avastè vers la cimo deserto ...
Emé li dous iue clin e li dos man duberto,
Dins un silènci grèu alor éu s’amaguè;
E, siau coume soun li mountagno,
Au mitan de sa glòri e de sa malamagno,
Sènso rèn dire mouriguè.

LA COUPO

Prouvençau, veici la coupo
Que nous vèn di Catalan:
A-de-rèng beguen en troupo
Lou vin pur de noste plant!

Coupo santo
E versanto,
Vuejo à plen bord,
Vuejo abord
Lis estrambord
E l’enavans di fort!

D’un vièi pople fièr e libre
Sian bessai la finicioun;
E, se toumbon li Felibre,
Toumbara nosto nacioun.

Coupo santo, &c.

D’uno raço que regreio
Sian bessai li proumié gréu;
Sian bessai de la patrio
Li cepoun emai li priéu.

Coupo santo, &c.

Vuejo-nous lis esperanço
E li raive dóu jouvènt,
Dóu passat la remembranço
E la fe dins l’an que vèn.

Coupo santo, &c.

Vuejo-nous la couneissènço
Dóu Verai emai dóu Bèu,
E lis àuti jouïssènço
Que se trufon dóu toumbèu.

Coupo santo, &c.

Vuejo-nous la Pouësio
Pèr canta tout ço que viéu,
Car es elo l’ambrousio
Que tremudo l’ome en diéu.

Coupo santo, &c.

Pèr la glòri dóu terraire
Vautre enfin que sias counsènt,
Catalan, de liuen, o fraire,
Coumunien tóutis ensèn!

Coupo santo
E versanto,
Vuejo à plen bord,
Vuejo abord
Lis estrambord
E l’enavans di fort!

A LA RAÇO LATINO.

(PEÇO DICHO A MOUNT-PELIÉ SUS LA PLAÇO DÓU PEIROU, LOU 25 DE MAI DE 1878.)

Aubouro-te, raço latino,
Souto la capo dóu soulèu!
Lou rasin brun boui dins la tino,
Lóu vin de Diéu gisclara lèu.

Emé toun péu que se desnouso
A l’auro santo dóu Tabor,
Tu siés la raço lumenouso
Que viéu de joio e d’estrambord;
Tu siés la raço apoustoulico
Que sono li campano à brand:
Tu siés la troumpo que publico
E siés la man que trais lou gran.

Aubouro-te, raço latino, &c.

Ta lengo maire, aquéu grand flume
Que pèr sèt branco s’espandis,
Largant l’amour, largant lou lume
Coume un resson de Paradis,
Ta lengo d’or, fiho roumano
Dóu Pople-Rèi, es la cansoun
Que rediran li bouco umano,
Tant que lou Verbe aura resoun.

Aubouro-te, raço latino, &c.

Toun sang ilustre, de tout caire,
Pèr la justiço a fa rajòu;
Pereilalin ti navegaire
Soun ana querre un mounde nòu;
Au batedis de ta pensado
As esclapa cènt cop ti rèi ...
Ah! se noun ères divisado
Quau poudrié vuei te faire lèi?

Aubouro-te, raço latino, &c.

A la belugo dis estello
Abrant lou mou de toun flambèu,
Dintre lou mabre e sus la telo
As encarna lou subre-bèu.
De l’art divin siés la patrio
E touto gràci vèn de tu;
Siés lou sourgènt de l’alegrio
E siés l’eterno jouventu!

Aubouro-te, raço latino, &c.

Di formo puro de ti femo
Li panteon se soun poupla;
A ti triounfle, à ti lagremo
Tóuti li cor an barbela;
Flouris la terro, quand fas flòri;
De ti foulié cadun vèn fòu;
E dins l’esclùssi de ta glòri
Sèmpre lou mounde a pourta dòu.

Aubouro-te, raço latino, &c.

Ta lindo mar, la mar sereno
Ounte blanquejon li veissèu,
Friso à ti pèd sa molo areno
En miraiant l’azur dóu cèu.
Aquelo mar toujour risènto,
Diéu l’escampè de soun clarun
Coume la cencho trelusènto
Que dèu liga ti pople brun.

Aubouro-te, raço latino, &c.

Sus ti coustiero souleiouso
Crèis l’óulivié, l’aubre de pas,
E de la vigno vertuiouso
S’enourgulisson ti campas:
Raço latino, en remembranço
De toun destin sèmpre courous,
Aubouro-te vers l’esperanço,
Afrairo-te souto la Crous!

Aubouro-te, raço latino,
Souto la capo dóu soulèu!
Lou rasin brun boui dins la tino,
Lou vin de Diéu gisclara lèu!

Printed by BALLANTYNE & CO LIMITED Tavistock Street, London

FOOTNOTES:

[1] JINGLE OF JOHN O’ THE PIG’S HEAD.

Come tell me, who is dead?--
’Tis John o’ the Pig’s Head.
And who his dirge doth sing?--
Why, ’tis the Moorish King.
And who laughs o’er him now?
The partridge doth, I trow.

Who makes a lay for him that’s gone?--
The mangle with its creaking stone.
Who was it that his knell began?--
The bottom of the frying-pan.
Who wears for him a mourning veil?--
The kettle’s sooty tail!

[2] A legendary character renowned as a spendthrift.

[3] The three tablecloths are graduated in size, commencing with the largest, and are _de rigueur_ for festal occasions.

[4] For Provençal text, _see_ p. 324.

[5] Poles crowned with Phrygian caps.

[6] Signifying the Republic.

[7] Poles crowned with Phrygian caps.

[8]

In the city of the Baux for a florin’s value
You have an apron full of cheeses
Which melt in the mouth like fine sugar.

[9] The national instrument of Provence.

[10] Athène du Midi.

[11] Monsieur Paul Mariéton in his “Terre Provençale” says of this work: “The history of a people is contained in this book. No one can ever know what devotion, knowledge, discrimination and intuition such a work represents, undertaken and concluded as it was during the twenty best years of a poet’s life. All the words of the Oc language in its seven different dialects, each one compared with its equivalent in the Latin tongue, all the proverbs and idioms of the South together with every characteristic expression either in use or long since out of vogue, make up this incomparable Thesaurus of a tenacious language, which is no more dead to-day than it was three hundred years ago, and which is now reconquering the hearts of all the faithful.” This “Treasury of the Félibres” opens with the following lines:

“O people of the South, hearken now to my words:

“If thou would’st regain the lost Empire of thy speech and equip thyself anew, dig deep in this mine.”

[12] The Mayor’s sash of office.

[13] Mistral has glorified this legend in his _Mireille_, where the saints appear to the young girl and recount to her their Odyssey (pp. 427-437, _Mireille_).--C. E. M.

[14] For Provençal text _see_ p. 324.

[15] For Provençal text _see_ p. 326.

[16] The elder half-brother of Frédéric Mistral inherited the Mas du Juge.

[17] A well-known poet and writer of Nîmes, author of a small poem regarded as a classic in France: “L’Ange et l’Enfant.”

[18] For Provençal text _see_ p. 329.

[19] Les Aliscamps, the famous burying-ground of the Romans. In the old pagan days it was said that this wonderful necropolis made Arles, the queen of cities, more opulent beneath her soil than above. Here the great Romans in the time of Augustus and Constantine regarded it as their privilege to be buried.--C. E. M.

[20] _Mireille_ was crowned by the Academy, and the poet received a prize of ten thousand francs.

[21] For Provençal text _see_ p. 332.

[22] For Provençal text _see_ p. 334.