Life Has Done With Me

Editor’s Note:  This translation of Francois Tristan L’Hermite’s “C’est fait de mes Destins” is the latest from Thomas Banks.

Here Life Has Done with Me

Here life has done with me; I have begun to feel
The odd embarrassments age deals me from her store;
Here’s pale-complexioned death who’s come my life to steal;
I hear his thin foot tapping dryly at my door.

As tiredly the sun lies down in after-hours,
Tumbling down somewhere behind the western wave,
So each, done reeling through these pleasant days of ours,
Finds in quick fashion for himself a quiet grave.

So let us drink farewell to lecherous conditions,
And fondly let them fall, our old joys, in the dirt
Of which they are, and say adieu to indiscretions,
Our appetites in years gone by, and our hearts’ hurt.

Ceasing to wrap our arms round images bodiless,
Fasting from error, we made prudence our repast;
Searching where we might lie in better watchfulness
To see the sun come up and hail us at the last.