The Good Life---Le Bonhuer De Ce Monde

 
       I used to stare up at this old French poem that my father hung on our cabin wall.  A beautiful piece of paper, painted with time, once belonging to my grandmother who was a woman of great taste, especially when it came to buying souvenirs.  Phyllis (grandma)  had the opportunity of world travel during a time when there was a plethora of quality handmade goods, unlike today’s plastic junk, and hurried handicrafts.  With her good taste and the wonderful  selection at her disposal she ended up with some fantastic items.   Some of  them were passed on to my father who wisely displayed these anachronistic handicrafts around our warm cabin in the Maine woods.  He would tell my sisters and I, his wide-eyed children, the stories of their origins. 

Out of these objects this French sonnet really struck me.  I was interested in foreign language and poetry at a young age, and although not a dedicated student, I somehow managed to learn a little French in high school.  I would try to translate this poem from its archaic French and my father who speaks French would help me along.  This poem still fascinates me to this day, and to this day, unfortunately I still don’t speak French. 

The Sonnet is called, “Le Bonhuer De Ce Monde” by a French bookbinder, print maker,(and poet evidently) Christopher Plantin, who lived in the 16th century.  The title roughly means, ‘This World's Good Fortune” or more simply, "The Good Life" and the sonnet is basically suggestions on how to live the good life. 
As I have traveled through life I recently have noticed that I have not exactly lived by this wise poem's suggestions.  Before I talk about it more I will post the sonnet, and it's English translation.

Le Bonhuer De Ce Monde 

Avoir une maison commode, propre et belle,
Un jardin tapissé d'espaliers odorans,
Des fruits, d'excellent vin, peu de train, peu d'enfans,  
Posséder seul sans bruit une femme fidèle;
 
N'avoir dettes, amour, ni procès, ni querelle,
Ni de partage à faire avecque ses parens,
Se contenter de peu, n'espérer rien des grands,
Régler tous ses desseins sur un juste modèle ;
 
Vivre avecque franchise et sans ambition,
S'adonner sans scrupules à la dévotion,
Domter ses passions, les rendre obéissantes,
 
Conserver l'esprit libre et le jugement fort,
Dire son chapelet en cultivant ses entes,
C'est attendre chez soi bien doucement la mort.
  



THIS WORLD'S GOOD FORTUNE

To have a house convenient, clean and fair;
A wallèd garden lined with fragrant trees;
Fruit and fine wine, few servants and few children;
The only lover of a faithful wife;

No debts, no love-affairs, lawsuits nor feuds,
No wills to haggle out with relatives,
Simply content, dependent on no magnate,
And by a righteous rule to rule one's life;

To live in frankness, from ambition far;
With conscience clear devoted to devotion,
To tame one's passions until they obey,

To keep the spirit free and judgement strong,
Saying one's prayers while looking to one's pear-trees:
A kindly way at home to wait for Death.

 
(translated by Roger Kuin






So as I move from youth, this poem has become even more relevant.  As a teenager trapped in Maine this strange philosophy French philosophy seemed boring to me!