YANN-BER KALLOC'H

(The Turn of the Ermine, An Anthology of Breton Literature

Selected and translated by Jacqueline Gibson and Gwyn Griffiths)

Snapshots of Brittany

The Sadness of The Celts, c.1910

(Tristedigeh er Helt)

I am young. I am not yet twenty;

The sun around me darts its fiery rays,

The flowers bring me their fragrance on the wind,

Yet I am constantly full of melancholy.

Why is it? Only God knows. When he created the Bretons,

He sowed lasting sadness in their hearts.

I am at an age when one enjoys living,

Running through the fields, having fun, singing,

At an age when one does not think of the grave or the tombstone,

Of the meaning of life which passes so fast;

Yet I feel restless among my life's delights.

God sowed sadness in Breton hearts.

People around me smile at the new Spring;

On a branch, the nightingale sings her sweetest song;

All the birds fill the air with the melodious notes.

Yet when I pick up my own little harp

It always sighs. I only know one tune:

God sowed sadness in Breton hearts.

Everything should make me happy:

Youth and freedom, the flowers in the fields, the sun in the sky,

What more do I need to call myself happy?

Yet I do not find this world enjoyable;

Something is constantly missing:

God sowed sadness in Breton hearts.

My Lord. This thing which, as a man, I miss so much

is You! For we are only visitors on this earth,

Our hearts were not designed for it.

But when we see the blessed cart of the Ankou approach,

To bring us over there, next toyou, in the deep heaven:

Then there will be joy in Breton hearts!