Le bestiaire

Natures three of lions are found with a mystical
meaning.
These I have written to Thee, O Christ, in metrical
verses.
Writings divine tell the tale of other creatures of
nature,
Of which poems I have made, and again with a mys-
tical meaning,
Writing of them, if I can, in verses of different metre,
These living creatures alone complete the full count
of their number.

Stands in his might the Lion, on the highest peak of
the mountain,
By whatsoever road he descends to the depth of the
valley,
If through his sense of smell he perceives the
approach of a hunter,
He rubs out with his tail, all the marks which his
feet may have printed,
So that none most skilled can tell what road he has
travelled,
Cubs, new born, live not till the sun three courses
has finished,
Then with a roar the Lion arouses his cub from his
slumbers,
When he begins to live, and gains all five of his
senses,
Now whenever he sleeps his eyelids never are closed.

Thus to Thee, Christ, who dwellest above the height
of the heavens,
When to the earth Thou cam’st at Thy will at the end
of the ages,
That Thou mightest redeem all men, now in
wickedness fallen,
It was not known at the time, to any one of the De-
mons,
That for Thee, Christ, Thy bed should be the womb
of the Virgin,
That Thy Father would cause Thee to rise at the end
of the third day,
And Thyself wouldest undergo death though of death
the Avenger,
Thou of us men the Guard, whose eye never closeth
in slumber,
Shepherd, Thou guardest Thy flock evermore from
assault of the Demons.

A venir

No other bird, it is said, can pass the Eagle in flying,
Since he thus deals with himself, whenever age to
him comes,
He seeks some flowing stream which never ceases its
springing,
Goes from the stream to the sky, rising close up to
the heat,
Then are his wings both dried in the burning heat of
the sunbeam,
Lessened in size now the spread, less is the weight of
the wings,
Then, too, the sight of his eyes is renewed in a wonderful
manner,
Losing the dimness of age, cleared by the heat of the
sun,
Now with a rush from the sky he descends to plunge
in the waters,
Quick as the fall from the nest, so the renewal of
youth.
Often so curved is the beak of the bird when he
seizes his victim
Scarce is he able to tear pieces from some of his
prey;
Striking the same on a rock, and gnawing the food
as he tears it,
Rubs he the curve of his beak thus on the rock gets
his food.

As is a man to his sins, which are from the source
of his Mother,
(Thus is the Eagle in kind, seeking his youth to re-
new.)
Soaring above earth’s clouds and seeking the sun in
the heavens,
Now despising the world, ever refusing its pomps.
New he is made in Christ, thrice plunged in the mys-
tical fountain
Which ever flows from its source, clear and so living
a stream,
Prayers of his mouth are heard, if asked of the Fa-
ther for Christ’s sake.
Christ is indeed the Rock, so the Apostle has said.
New for us all is the bread, over all that is sweet, is
the sweetest.
Christ in a word is the bread, and to all ages our
food.