LAST LINES

Written by André Chénier, when awaiting his turn to go to the scaffold, and translated by Sir Tollemache Sinclair.

As a last zephyr," as a last ray full of fire,

The grand close animates of a most beauteous day,

Near to the scaffold's foot I sound again my lyre.

Though Nature's debt my hapless fate soon 'tis to pay.

Perhaps ere this hour in its circle moving fast,

Has on the bright enamel placed my sad doom's date.

In those short sixty steps which bound its course at last,

Its vigilant and loud foot to announce my fate,

Death's sleep will close my eyelids, they'll rend and my head

Before of its two halves which I in sadness pen.

This line, which I begin now, has attained the end,

Perhaps within these frightful walls, this loathsome den,

Thy message. Death, black source of shades, whilst sad I hark,

Escorted by fierce soldiers pitiless and strong,

Will with my name fill all these corridors so dai-k.

Perhaps...*