«Après moi, le déluge»
Louis XV's vision of pitch and gopher wood
A nightmare pressed Louis to speak this remark: “France will be submerged after I disembark. I have seen that once Noach enters his ark, Then will our vast continent sink into the dark. “Once before, in the deluge that Moses recorded, By which the wise Lord His creation aborted, Water fell from the sky once a boat had been boarded To drown men and beasts not likewise escorted. “The family from whom we all are descended Foresaw their old country was soon to be ended, But instead of their fellows, only livestock they tended, For what God has rent can never be mended. “At their landing on Ararat was a promise secured, That never again would Earth be so disturbed By diluvian waters; but the Creator demured: Of non-aqueous floods, they were not so assured. “That’s the reason, dear sons, why this evening I’ve said How a new flood shall produce fresh waves of the dead— Not blue waters rushing, but a great flood of red, Gushing over the streets from out of your head.” The King softly continued as his boys loudly protested, “A deluge is a method by antiquity tested That the world from its excesses might be divested; If our downfall’s apparent, then well you have guessed it.” Having spoken his peace, King Louis took his leave. Still the Bourbon patrician felt ill-at-ease; The peasants could not for long live so hard-squeezed, But for just a time longer, they’d remain on their knees. It’s not needed to understand bird augury To see, bounding all sides, the quadruple equestary. Doom bides its time to close in on one’s progeny, And words alone to the wise will not bridge the deficiency.
