L'homme a ri (Victor Hugo)

L’HOMME A RI Victor Hugo 30 octobre 1852 . Ah ! tu finiras bien par hurler, misérable! Encore tout haletant de ton crime exécrable, Dans ton triomphe abject, si lugubre et si prompt, Je t'ai saisi. J'ai mis l'écriteau sur ton front; Et maintenant la foule accourt, et te bafoue. Toi, tandis qu'au poteau le châtiment te cloue, Que le carcan te force à lever le menton, Tandis que, de ta veste arrachant le bouton, L'histoire à mes côtés met à nu ton épaule, Tu dis : je ne sens rien! et tu nous railles, drôle! Ton rire sur mon nom gaîment vient écumer; Mais je tiens le fer rouge et vois ta chair fumer. . I am not even going to try to make the English translation a poem. The above is a poem Victor Hugo wrote to Napoleon III. A rough translation of it is as follows: . THE MAN LAUGHED . Ah! you will end up by screaming, you miserable thing! Still panting from your detestable crime, In your abject triumph, so dismal and so quick off the mark, I have got you. I put the sign on your forehead; And now the crowd rushes and tramples you. You, while at the stake, punishment nails you, While the yoke forces you to lift the chin, While tearing the button from your jacket, The story I have, exposes your shoulder [in order to brand you], You say: "I feel nothing!" You jeer at us – joker/ funny is it/ you think you are funny/ peculiar person! Your laughter at my name may foam and froth happily; But I hold a red-hot iron bar and see your flesh smoke.