A French poet, a French rose.

A French poet, a French rose.

A French poet, a French rose.
Part three of our Valentine’s mini-series.

View the video here: https://www.instagram.com/p/CoZP2s3K3fU/

And yes! This video was filmed in my garden in Bretagne. 💕🌹Pierre de Ronsard, or Eden Rose 85, is a rose cultivar developed by French rose grower, Louisette Meilland.

Pierre de Ronsard (1524-1585) was a French poet and one of the most important figures of the French Renaissance. Born into a noble family, Ronsard was educated in the classical literature of Greece and Rome, which profoundly influenced his writing. He began writing poetry at an early age and quickly established himself as one of the leading poets of his generation.

Ronsard was part of the Pléiade, a group of poets who sought to establish French as a literary language and to promote the use of the sonnet form in French literature. The Pléiade was inspired by the classical literature of Greece and Rome, and Ronsard’s work reflects this influence. His sonnets, in particular, are considered some of the best examples of the French sonnet, and he is credited with helping to establish the form in French literature.

Pierre de Ronsard’s “Sonnets pour Hélène” is one of the defining works of the French Renaissance. Written in the late 16th century, the collection of sonnets is a tribute to Hélène de Breuil, the daughter of one of Ronsard’s friends. The sonnets are addressed to Hélène, praising her beauty and virtue, making her one of the first celebrated women in French literature.

Amour est sans milieu
True Love is Absolute
Sonnets pour Hélène Book I,56

True love is absolute, all compromise
condemns, shares not the heart it glorifies:
while friendship sighs, and fails, whene’er one tries
to split Eve’s apple any otherwise.
I love with all my soul! Eternal ties
together knot twin spirits. Love defies
attempts at separation, Time denies.
Two halves as one love ever unifies.
Askance I shadows view with jealous eyes,
suspicious sighs in false friends recognize –
my spirit through itself identifies.
All other feelings passing whims disguise
as Love’s bright flame, light fancy which the wise
dismiss as smokescreen, childish pack of lies...

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