Nos Ipsos Servamus

I’ve been writing a lot more lately, and submitting pieces to different places. One of the places I’ve started submitting to is the Rattle “Poets Respond” – a weekly call to write something topical, inspired by the news. Since these are going to go out of date very quickly, I’ve decided that, when they’re rejected, they’ll get posted on my Patreon (and, a few days later, here).

I’ve been ill again recently, so only properly clocked the time with a couple of hours to spare before the deadline for this… On Monday, I was all set to talk scathingly about entertainment news and then… over the last few days several famous people died who had hoards of devoted fans and some terrible views and actions to their names (as well as the less celebrated who appear thoroughly blameless, even worthy). We keep being told not to speak ill of especially the freshly dead, but, even when it’s family or friends, I’ve always found it difficult not to look at every aspect of who they were, the full layers of their legacy. In the UK, it took nearly a year after his death for people to be allowed to reveal the full monstrosity of Jimmy Savile, and I think that fetishisation of celebrities for whom we develop parasocial feelings is still very much a problem.

Nos Ipsos Servamus translates roughly as “we save ourselves”, and the poem is in the form of a rondo redoublé.

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In solemn tones we mark them: blessèd souls;
the ones who go before us, bear the tales,
while we, in turn, must choose to shoulder roles
until it’s time for us to test the scales.

But God forbid that on the night they sail
we dare to run adrift on bitter shoals.
(We must not speak aloud of any ‘fails’!)
In solemn tones we mark them: blessèd souls.

Bring down the flags, so they divide the poles,
and let the heavens ring with sacred wails,
as, in our hearts, we guard the tight-bound scrolls:
the ones who went before us bear the tales…

But later? Well, now common sense prevails,
permitting heels to turn and check the soles
of those departed (now it won’t hurt sales…)
while we, in turn, must choose to shoulder roles.

To pass the test of time? a solid goal.
It’s best to keep the buck and carry pails
of our own crap and pay the debts we owe
until it’s time for us to test the scales.

Entitlement talks loudly, posts the bails
for those who live above us foolish proles.
The ones who fight to tell their honest tales?
Now they’re the folks to whom we owe our souls.
In solemn tones we mark them.

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If you fancy having a go at writing one of these Rondeaux Redoublé yourself, why not try my handy-dandy tool here? Let me know how you get on!

Transfer of ashes of Voltaire to the Pantheon (1791) via Wikipedia

The words under the title of the picture read: “Il est digne de recevoir les honneurs décernée aux grands hommes. La Cérémonie du Triomphe de Voltaire a eu lieu le Lundi 11 Juillet 1791. Cet hommage rendu aux talents d’un grand Homme, a l’Autour de la Henriade.” which translates to “He is worthy of receiving the honors bestowed upon great men. The Ceremony of Voltaire’s Triumph took place on Monday, July 11, 1791. This tribute was paid to the talents of a great man, the author of the Henriade.”