Analysis of Hymne Des Transportés (Hymn Of The Transported)
Victor Marie Hugo 1802 (Besançon) – 1885 (Paris)
Prions ! voici l'ombre sereine.
Vers toi, grand Dieu, nos yeux et nos bras sont levés.
Ceux qui t'offrent ici leurs larmes et leur chaîne
Sont les plus douloureux parmi les éprouvés.
Ils ont le plus d'honneur ayant le plus de peine.
Souffrons ! le crime aura son tour.
Oiseaux qui passez, nos chaumières,
Vents qui passez, nos soeurs, nos mères
Sont là-bas, pleurant nuit et jour. !
Oiseaux, dites-leur nos misères !
Ô vents, portez-leur notre amour !
Nous t'envoyons notre pensée,
Dieu ! nous te demandons d'oublier les proscrits,
Mais de rendre sa gloire à la France abaissée ;
Et laisse-nous mourir, nous brisés et meurtris,
Nous que le jour brûlant livre à la nuit glacée !
Souffrons ! le crime -
Comme un archer frappe une cible,
L'implacable soleil nous perce de ses traits
Après le dur labeur, le sommeil impossible ;
Cette chauve-souris qui sort des noirs marais,
La fièvre, bat nos fronts de son aile invisible.
Souffrons ! le crime -
On a soif, l'eau brûle la bouche
On a faim, du pain noir ; travaillez, malheureux !
A chaque coup de pioche en ce désert farouche
La mort sort de la terre avec son rire affreux,
Prend l'homme dans ses bras, l'étreint et se recouche.
Souffrons ! le crime -
Mais qu'importe ! rien ne nous dompte ;
Nous sommes torturés et nous sommes contents.
Nous remercions Dieu vers qui notre hymne monte
De nous avoir choisis pour souffrir dans ce temps
Où tous ceux qui n'ont pas la souffrance ont la honte.
Souffrons ! le crime -
Vive la grande République !
Paix à l'immensité du soir mystérieux !
Paix aux morts endormis dans la tombe stoïque !
Paix au sombre océan qui mêle sous les cieux
La plainte de Cayenne au sanglot de l'Afrique !
Souffrons ! le crime aura son tour.
Oiseaux qui passez, nos chaumières,
Vents qui passez, nos soeurs, nos mères
Sont là-bas, pleurant nuit et jour.
Oiseaux, dites-leur nos misères !
Ô vents, portez-leur notre amour !
Hymn of the Transported
Let us pray! Lo, the shadow serene!
God, towards thee our arms are upraised and our eyes.
They who proffer thee here their tears and their chain
Are the most sorrowful thy sorrow tries.
Most honour have they, being possessed of most pain.
Let us suffer! The crim will take flight.
Birds passing our cottages;
Winds passing,—on weary knees
Mothers, sisters, weep there day and night!
Winds, tell them our miseries!
Birds, bear our heart's love to their sight!
Our thought is uplifted to thee,
God! The proscribed we beseech thee forget,
But give back her old glory to France, whom we see
Shame-smitten; ay! slay us,—us sorrow-beset;
Hot day but consigns to chill night's agony!
Let us suffer! The crim will take flight.
Birds passing our cottages;
Winds passing,—on weary knees
Mothers, sisters, weep there day and night!
Winds, tell them our miseries!
Birds, bear our heart's love to their sight!
As a bowman striketh a mark,
The fierce sun smites us with shafts of fire;
After dire day-labour, no sleep in night dark;
The bat that takes wing from the marish-mire—
Fever—flaps noiseless our brows and leaves stark.
Let us suffer! The crim will take flight.
Birds passing our cottages;
Winds passing,—on weary knees
Mothers, sisters, weep there day and night!
Winds, tell them our miseries!
Birds, bear our heart's love to their sight!
Athirst! The scant water-drop burns!
An-hungered,—black bread! Work, work, ye accurst!
At each stroke of the pick wild laughter returns
Loud echoed; lo! from the soil Death hath burst,
Round a man folds arms, and to sleep anew turns.
Let us suffer! The crim will take flight.
Birds passing our cottages;
Winds passing,—on weary knees
Mothers, sisters, weep there day and night!
Winds, tell them our miseries!
Birds, bear our heart's love to their sight!
What matters it! Nothing can tame
Us; we are tortured, and we are content.
And we thank high God, towards whom like flame
Our hymn burneth, that unto us suffering is sent,
When all they that endure not suffering bear shame.
Let us suffer! The crim will take flight.
Birds passing our cottages;
Winds passing,—on weary knees
Mothers, sisters, weep there day and night!
Winds, tell them our miseries!
Birds, bear our heart's love to their sight!
Live the Republic world-great!
Peace to the vast mysterious even!
Peace to the dead sweet slumber doth sate!
To wan ocean peace, that blen
Scheme | ababa CDDEDC fbfbf G hxhxh G ibibi G jxfxj G kbkbk CDDEDC j alala JMNJNJ fjfja JMNJNJkxkxk JMNJNJojojo JMNJNJpjpjp JMNJNJjaja |
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Poetic Form | |
Metre | 1111 111111111111 1111111111 11111111 1101110111 1011011 111111 11111111 1111111 111111 111101 111011 1111111 111111111 111111111 11011111111 101 1110111 101000111111 11011010100 111011111 1111111110100 101 101111011 10111111 0111111111 11111101111 11111111111 101 111111 111111110 1111110110 111111111 11111111111 101 11111 111111 111111111 11111110111 11111111 1011011 111111 11111111 1111111 111111 111101 110010 11110101 1011101110101 11101111011 1011001101 11111001111 111001111 11010100 1101101 101011101 11110100 111011111 101110011 1001101101 111011011111 11011111001 1111111100 111001111 11010100 1101101 101011101 11110100 111011111 1010101 0111111110 1011111011 0111110101 1011101011 111001111 11010100 1101101 101011101 11110100 111011111 1011011 11111111 11110111001 1101101111 10111011011 111001111 11010100 1101101 101011101 11110100 111011111 11011011 1111001110 0111101111 1011110110011 111101110011 111001111 11010100 1101101 101011101 11110100 111011111 1001011 1101010010 110111011 1110111 |
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 4,285 |
Words | 728 |
Sentences | 79 |
Stanzas | 20 |
Stanza Lengths | 5, 6, 5, 1, 5, 1, 5, 1, 5, 1, 5, 6, 1, 5, 6, 5, 11, 11, 11, 10 |
Lines Amount | 106 |
Letters per line (avg) | 31 |
Words per line (avg) | 7 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 165 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 37 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 3:44 min read
- 49 Views
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"Hymne Des Transportés (Hymn Of The Transported)" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 11 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/37738/hymne-des-transport%C3%A9s-%28hymn-of-the-transported%29>.
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