Saturday, 25 April 2020

Jacob Frese: 'Förakt öfwer werldsens fåfängelighet'



Disdain at the vanity of the world 

Begone world with your vanity!
     I give you my farewell:
There is another world for me/
     Where my tired soul would dwell;
Your gaudy baubles are a lie; 
Poor wretch who in your snares must die;
You barren world, goodbye! 

Pleasure       Though Nain of pleasures you are named,
     Their burden pains us all:
The joy and sweetness for you claimed 
     Are nought but bitter gall. 
Your gaudy baubles are a lie; 
Poor wretch who in your snares must die;
You blinding world, goodbye! 

Honour         Your honour is a cloud which gleams/ 
     But swiftly drifts away. 
That changes with each breeze it seems/
     And lasts a single day. 
Your gaudy baubles are a lie; 
Poor wretch who in your snares must die;
You bare-faced world, goodbye! 

Riches          Your riches are a short-lived loan/
     A stream that swiftly strains, 
Where back and forth the waves are thrown; 
     With no one at the reins.
Your gaudy baubles are a lie; 
Poor wretch who in your snares must die;
You brazen world, goodbye!

Trust            How certain is your faithfulness? 
     How long-lived is your peace?
Your faith’s distress and faithlessness, 
     Peace strife that does not cease. 
Your gaudy baubles are a lie; 
Poor wretch who in your snares must die;
You bogus world, goodbye!

Farewell! Your flattery I scorn/
     And view it with disdain. 
Your risky ways I have forsworn :
     I mock your splendour vain. 
Your gaudy baubles are a lie; 
Poor wretch who in your snares must die;
You barren world, goodbye!

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