"Petite Reine"

Here is a beautiful poem in honor of Queen Elisabeth of the Belgians.

Petite Reine

Par delà le champ de bataille,

Derrière la zone de feu,

Quand les obus et la mitraille

Sifflent, en croisant dans l’air bleu

Leurs rigoureuses trajectoires ;

Quand la mêlée aux rangs pressés,

Sous l’aile ardente des victoires,

Grouille autour des corps entassés,

Une frêle et noble infirmière

Aux yeux tendres, au cœur viril,

Vaque à sa tâche coutumière,

Insoucieuse du péril.

De ville en ville, avec vaillance,

Elle a suivi tous les combats,

Et d’ambulance en ambulance

Disputé sa proie au trépas.

Elle vient à qui la réclame,

A son aspect l’espoir refleurit,

Et d’ambulance en ambulance

Disputé sa proie au trépas.

Elle vient à qui la réclame,

A son aspect l’espoir refleurit,

Et son sourire est un dictame

Qui réconforte et qui guérit.

Elle sait le mot qui fait vivre

Malgré les cruautés du sort,

Elle sait le mot qui délivre

Et rend moins amère la mort.

Sa main panse, sa voix console,

Tout subit son charme apaisant ;

Et c’est son cher nom qui s’envole

Des lèvres de l’agonisant.

Petite Reine qui naguère

De ton palais familial,

Pour soigner les maux de la guerre,

Avais fait un vaste hôpital,

Toi, qui, souriante et sereine

Comme l’étoile du matin,

Dresse ta grâce souveraine

Devant les assauts du destin,

Dont la douce pitié se penche

Sur le front pâle des mourants

Et qui calmes de ta main blanche

La fièvre aux accès délirants,

Toi, que l’Univers entier prône,

- Héroïne sans le savoir  –

Et qui mets la gloire du trône

Au-dessous de l’obscur devoir,

Toi, dont la tendresse infinie

A des trésors inépuisés,

Petite Reine, sois bénie

Au nom de tous les cœurs brisés !

~ A. Vierset.

I will post a translation in the comments box.

(Image: old postcard of Queen Elisabeth and Princess Marie-José)

Night in Bruges

Here is a poem (dated September, 1935) by Australian composer Miriam Hyde, on the death of Queen Astrid. I don't think it is the greatest literature, but I still found it touching. I like the way she captures the grief and solidarity of a whole community.

The carillons are hush’d; still is the night,

And footsteps echo on the cobble-stones.

With faces drawn, under the cold lamp light,

A group of women talk in muffled tones.

Above them, twisted sadly round its pole,

Hangs a limp flag of Belgian colours three;

And there with one another they condole,

Sharing their grief with love and sympathy.

The black canal glides noiselessly along

Under the lonely bridge; and stars are bright.

Perhaps, somewhere among the twinkling throng,

Queen Astrid’s soul to Heav’n has added light.

What do you think of the poem? (Please also read The Broken Rose on King Albert I).

(Photo: Han-sur-Lesse at night, in the public domain. I know it is not Bruges but it was the best I could do).

A Poem by Queen Elisabeth

As I have mentioned before, Einstein (perhaps surprisingly) was a close friend of King Albert I and Queen Elisabeth of Belgium. He shared with the Queen a passion for classical music, and enjoyed discussing political and philosophical issues with the King. Many fascinating and touching letters between Einstein and the royal couple testify to the depth of their mutual regard (for example, see HERE). The King and Queen were both very anxious for Einstein's safety in the face of Nazi persecution. When he spent time at the seaside resort of Le Coq, Belgium, in 1933, Albert insisted on providing him with two bodyguards to protect him day and night.

Einstein and Elisabeth enjoyed exchanging rhymed greetings. Here is one, dated March 15, 1933, by the Queen. Playing on the scientist's name, (ein stein = "one stone") she alluded to her fears for his safety. Einstein had previously written her a poem, regretting his inability to visit the royal couple. He had compared himself to a tree:

It sends- its greetings to convey-

A twig, for it itself must stay.

The Queen's reply, I think, is very charming:

The twig the greeting did convey

From the tree that had to stay,

And from the friend, whose heart so big

Could send great joy by tiny twig.

A thousand thanks aloud I cry

Unto mountain, sea and sky.

Now, when stones begin to shake,

I pray ONE STONE no harm will take.

(cited in Albert Einstein: The Human Side, 1981, p. 49)