Although St Valentine sent a nice note to his jailer’s daughter that said “From your Valentine” (not to mention he cured her sight) St Raphael helped Sarah survive a wedding to Tobias. Tobias’ previous seven brides died on their wedding night.
St Raphael thus saved women from death by marriage. Could anything possibly represent love more? On the other hand, if you still wish to pray to St Valentine on this day, perhaps eye surgery is a good fit, or even the mail.
Given the Church’s advice, I could not help but reference a Litany of St Raphael. Contrary to their suggestion, however, I found no mention of love. The only time the word seems to be mentioned is “lover of chastity”. Hmm, back to marriage again. Is there more to the Church’s advice than meets the eye regarding who to pray towards on February 14th?
Alternatively, we could just agree that Valentine’s day is not really about love, but rather celebrating criminal activity for which you may or not be canonized.
As if before some mournful parting
Tatyana groaned above the tide;
she saw no friendly figure starting
to help her from the other side;
but suddenly a snowdrift rumbled,
and what came out? a hairy, tumbled,
enormous bear; Tatyana yelled,
the bear let out a roar, and held
a sharp-nailed paw towards her; bracing
her nerves, she leant on it her weight,
and with a halting, trembling gait
above the water started tracing
her way; she passed, then as she walked
the bear — what next? — behind her stalked.
XIII
A backward look is fraught with danger;
she speeds her footsteps to a race,
but from her shaggy-liveried ranger
she can’t escape at any pace —
the odious bear still grunts and lumbers.
Ahead of them a pinewood slumbers
in the full beauty of its frown;
the branches all are weighted down
with tufts of snow; and through the lifted
summits of aspen, birch and lime,
the nightly luminaries climb.
No path to see: the snow has drifted
across each bush, across each steep,
and all the world is buried deep.
XIV
She’s in the wood, the bear still trails her.
There’s powdery snow up to her knees;
now a protruding branch assails her
and clasps her neck; and now she sees
her golden earrings off and whipping;
and now the crunchy snow is stripping
her darling foot of its wet shoe,
her handkerchief has fallen too;
no time to pick it up — she’s dying
with fright, she hears the approaching bear;
her fingers shake, she doesn’t dare
to lift her skirt up; still she’s flying,
and he pursuing, till at length
she flies no more, she’s lost her strength.
XV
She’s fallen in the snow — alertly
the bear has raised her in his paws;
and she, submissively, inertly —
no move she makes, no breath she draws;
he whirls her through the wood… a hovel
shows up through trees, all of a grovel
in darkest forest depths and drowned
by dreary snowdrifts piled around;
there’s a small window shining in it,
and from within come noise and cheer;
the bear explains: “my cousin’s here —
come in and warm yourself a minute!”
he carries her inside the door
and sets her gently on the floor.
Non, Rien De Rien, Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien
Ni Le Bien Qu’on M’a Fait, Ni Le Mal
Tout Ca M’est Bien Egal
Non, Rien De Rien, Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien
C’est Paye, Balaye, Oublie, Je Me Fous Du Passe
Avec Mes Souvenirs J’ai Allume Le Feu
Mes Shagrins, Mes Plaisirs,
Je N’ai Plus Besoin D’eux
Balaye Les Amours Avec Leurs Tremolos
Balaye Pour Toujours
Je Reparas A Zero
Non, Rien De Rien, Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien
Ni Le Bien Qu’on M’a Fait, Ni Le Mal
Tout Ca M’est Bien Egal
Non, Rien De Rien, Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien
Car Ma Vie, Car Me Joies
Aujourd’hui Ca Commence Avec Toi
Piaf dedicated her recording of the song to the French Foreign Legion. At the time of the recording, France was engaged in a military conflict, the Algerian War (1956–1962), and the 1st R E P (Premier Regiment Etranger de Parachutistes, First Regiment Foreign Paratroopers) — which backed a temporary putsch by the French military against the civilian leadership of Algeria — adopted the song when their resistance was broken in April 1961. The leadership of the Regiment was arrested and tried but the non-commissioned officers, corporals and Legionnaires were assigned to other Foreign Legion formations. They left the barracks singing the song, which has now become part of the French Foreign Legion heritage and is sung when they are on parade.
Rose-maiden, no, I do not quarrel
With these dear chains, they don’t demean.
The nightingale embushed in laurel,
The sylvan singers’ feathered queen,
Does she not bear the same sweet plight?
Near the proud rose’s beauty dwelling,
And with her tender anthems thrilling
The dusk of a voluptuous night.
О, дева-роза, я в оковах;
Но не стыжусь твоих оков:
Так соловей в кустах лавровых,
Пернатый царь лесных певцов,
Близ розы гордой и прекрасной
В неволе сладостной живет
И нежно песни ей поет
Во мраке ночи сладострастной.
a blog about the poetry of information security, since 1995