Читать книгу Poems - Victor Hugo, Clara Inés Bravo Villarreal - Страница 6

     When the Christians were doomed to the lions of old

     By the priest and the praetor, combined to uphold

             An idolatrous cause,

     Forth they came while the vast Colosseum throughout

     Gathered thousands looked on, and they fell 'mid the shout

             Of "the People's" applause.

     On the eve of that day of their evenings the last!

     At the gates of their dungeon a gorgeous repast,

             Rich, unstinted, unpriced,

     That the doomed might (forsooth) gather strength ere they bled,

     With an ignorant pity the jailers would spread

             For the martyrs of Christ.

     Oh, 'twas strange for a pupil of Paul to recline

     On voluptuous couch, while Falernian wine

             Fill'd his cup to the brim!

     Dulcet music of Greece, Asiatic repose,

     Spicy fragrance of Araby, Italian rose,

             All united for him!

     Every luxury known through the earth's wide expanse,

     In profusion procured was put forth to enhance

             The repast that they gave;

     And no Sybarite, nursed in the lap of delight,

     Such a banquet ere tasted as welcomed that night

             The elect of the grave.

     And the lion, meantime, shook his ponderous chain,

     Loud and fierce howled the tiger, impatient to stain

             The bloodthirsty arena;

     Whilst the women of Rome, who applauded those deeds

     And who hailed the forthcoming enjoyment, must needs

             Shame the restless hyena.

     They who figured as guests on that ultimate eve,

     In their turn on the morrow were destined to give

             To the lions their food;

     For, behold, in the guise of a slave at that board,

     Where his victims enjoyed all that life can afford,

             Death administering stood.

     Such, O monarchs of earth! was your banquet of power,

     But the tocsin has burst on your festival hour —

             'Tis your knell that it rings!

     To the popular tiger a prey is decreed,

     And the maw of Republican hunger will feed

             On a banquet of Kings!