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High poet, pride of the English squires,
I would be just a nettle in your garden.

— Eustache Deschamps

Poete hault, loenge d'escuiye,
En ton jardin ne seroie qu'ortie.

Original text (French)

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Source, in full

"Grant translateur, noble Geoffroy Chaucier" line 31; text and translation from Ian S. Laurie and Deborah M. Sinnreich-Levi (eds.), David Curzon and Jeffrey Fiskin (trans.) Eustache Deschamps: Selected Poems (London: Routledge, 2003) pp. 70-71.

Topics

Gardening

More quotes by Eustache Deschamps

The snail will get to Easter just as soon.

Friends, those relations that one makes for one's self.

All strangers love her, will always find her fair,
Because such elegance, such happiness,
Will not be found in any town but this:
Paris is beyond compare.

If all the sky was made of gold leaf, and the air was starred with fine silver, and treasure borne on all the winds, and every drop of sea-water was a florin, and it rained down, morning and evening, riches, goods, honours, jewels, money, till all the people were filled with it, and I stood there naked in such rain and wind, never a drop of it would fall on me.

All Eustache Deschamps quotes →

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Attribution

Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: Eustache Deschamps (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.