Ballad Written by Villon upon a Subject Proposed by Charles, Duc d’Orléans

I die of thirst, although the spring's at hand;
Hot as a fire, my teeth with cold do shake :
In my own town, I'm in a foreign land ;
Hard by a burning brazier do I quake ;
Clad like a king, yet naked as a snake.
I laugh through tears, expect sans hope soe'er
And comfort take amiddleward despair ;
Glad, though I joy in nought beneath the sun,
Potent am I, and yet as weak as air;
Well entertained, rebuffed of every one.

Nought's dim to me save what I understand ;
Uncertain things alone for sure I take ;
I doubt but facts that all unquestioned stand ;
I'm only wise by chance for a whim's sake ;
' Give you good-night ! ' I say, whenas I wake ;
Lying at my length, of falling I beware;
I've goods enough, yet not a crown to spare ;
Leave off a loser, though I still have won;
Await bequests, although to none I'm heir ;
Well entertained, rebuffed of every one.

I care for nought, yet all my life I've planned
Goods to acquire, although I've none at stake ;
They speak me fairest, by whom most I'm banned,
And truest, who most mock of me do make :
He is my friend, who causes me mistake
Black ravens for white swans and foul for fair;
Who doth me hurt, I hold him debonair;
'Twixt truth and lying difference see I none ;
Nought I conceive, yet all in mind I bear;
Well entertained, rebuffed of every one.

Envoi
Most clement Prince, I'd have you be aware
That I'm like all and yet apart and rare;
Much understand, yet wit and knowledge shun :
To have my wage again is all my care;
Well entertained, rebuffed of every one.