Parbleu ! j’en tiens, c’est tout de bon. 

Yet another poet in love, or at least so Saint-Amant would have us believe from the title of this poem. But, as he explains in the poem, there are some downsides to being in love…

L’ÉNAMOURÉ

Parbleu ! j’en tiens, c’est tout de bon.
Ma libre humeur en a dans l’aile,
Puisque je préfère au jambon
Le visage d’une donzelle.
Je suis pris dans le doux lien
De l’archerot idalien.
Ce dieutelet, fils de Cyprine,
Avecques son arc mi-courbé,
A féru ma rude poitrine
Et m’a fait venir à jubé.

Mon esprit a changé d’habit :
Il n’est plus vêtu de revêche,
Il se raffine et se fourbit
Aux yeux de ma belle chevêche.
Plus aigu, plus clair et plus net
Qu’une dague de cabinet,
Il estocade la tristesse,
Et, la chassant d’autour de soi,
Se vante que la politesse
Ne marche plus qu’avecques moi.

Je me fais friser tous les jours,
On me relève la moustache ;
Je n’entrecoupe mes discours
Que de rots d’ambre et de pistache ;
J’ai fait banqueroute au pétun ;
L’excès du vin m’est importun :
Dix pintes par jour me suffisent ;
Encore, ô falotte beauté
Dont les regards me déconfisent,
Est-ce pour boire à ta santé !

From <http://www.paradis-des-albatros.fr/?poeme=saint_amant/l-enamoure&gt;

The first stanza comically sets the scene, describing the poet lamenting his discovery that he now prefers to look at the face of a girl rather than tuck into a nice piece of ham. For he has been struck by Cupid’s arrow and brought down by it.

The second stanza goes on to lament the changes in him brought about by this sad state of affairs. He needs to dress smartly, not shabbily, he needs to be alert, chase away sadness and be politer than anyone else.

In the third stanza the poet has his hair and moustache trimmed and curled every day; he only belches after eating amber (?) and peanuts, not, as usual, from drinking – in fact while in love he must limit himself to only 10 pints of wine a day – what a sacrifice. And those ten pints are only to drink good health to the beauty of his lover.

The poet does indeed leave the reader wondering whether all these changes are worth it to be in love.

I guess this could be an anti-love poem

The Poetry Dude

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