François Villon (in modern French, pronounced [fʁɑ̃swa vijɔ̃]; in fifteenth-century French, [frɑnswɛ viˈlɔn]) (c. 1431 – after 5 January 1463) was a French poet, thief, and vagabond. He is perhaps best known for his Testaments and his Ballade des Pendus, written while in prison. The question "Mais où sont les neiges d'antan?", taken from the "Ballade des dames du temps jadis" and translated by Dante Gabriel Rossetti as "Where are the snows of yesteryear?", is one of the most famous lines of translated secular poetry in the English-speaking world.
So first and foremost and for me personally very much importantly, the claims of some of German Expressionist poet Paul Zech’s contemporaries (usually it seems, art and literary critics with probably a bit too much time on their hands and a holier than thou attitude of narcissistic "moral" superiority) that Zech’s 1931 adaptation of late Medieval French poet François Villon's verses (with the title of Die lasterhaften Balladen und Lieder des Francois Villon) is deliberate and calculated plagiarism, this is in my totally not at all humble opinion absolutely, totally ridiculous and as such also unacceptable and inexcusable vicious nastiness.
For one, why should a poetry translation (or adaptation) of a late Medieval French poet into German (and one who of course has been deceased for many centuries and has equally thus been for a very long time in the so-called public domain) even remotely be approached as plagiarism in the first place? And for two, plagiarism accusations with regard to poetry translations or adaptations are at best hugely problematic and iffy anyhow and should really only warrant said label if the poet in question has very specifically stated that he or she does not want or did not want his or her lyrical output to be translated or adapted, and which scenario is naturally NOT going to be the case with François Villon (unless we are dealing with a vengeful ghost someone had contacted through a medium in sceance). Finally, and for three, it does seem as though at least some of the plagiarism accusations against Paul Zech for Die lasterhaften Balladen und Lieder des Francois Villon have occurred due to personal animosity, and namely because the critics in question were upset and offended that Paul Zech had not done a straight translation of Villon but rather an adaptation, which these yahoos obviously could then not accept even though Paul Zech never once even remotely claimed that Die lasterhaften Balladen und Lieder des Francois Villon were anything but Nachdichtungen, were anything but rather free adaptations.
And rather sadly (and frankly quite infuriatingly), even though it is and should be pretty crystal clear by now that Paul Zech NEVER PLAGIARISED François Villon, there are far too many "people" who even today still actively tend to consider Paul Zech’s Villon adaptations as being plagiarism, who still want to accept the at best erroneous assessments of early 1930s literary critics who seemed to have personal issues and axes to grind with Paul Zech and who obviously also did not really know and comprehend the differences between translations and adaptations.
Now with regard to the adapted poetry itself, personally speaking, I have indeed very much enjoyed reading Die lasterhaften Balladen und Lieder des Francois Villon (and even more so than Villon in the original late Middle French, I might add, which I had to peruse and analyse in detail for a French literature course I took in 1988 during the final year of my BA). For Paul Zech's presented verses of Die lasterhaften Balladen und Lieder des Francois Villon, they really do clearly and spectacularly show that he had a real and all encompassing understanding of François Villon as a person, of Villon's often chaotic life and equally of his work, with the poems of Die lasterhaften Balladen und Lieder des Francois Villon always showing more than enough of François Villon to clearly be based on the latter but also demonstrating that Paul Zech was putting very much of himself into Die lasterhaften Balladen und Lieder des Francois Villon, with the end result being a delightful combination of François Villon and Paul Zech, of wonderful, of lyrically delightful poems mixing the chaos of the French late Middle Ages (including the Black Death, that François Villon was woefully poor, a nomad and often really suffering) with Paul Zech’s own life and his experiences as an Expressionist (including the horrors of being a front line soldier during WWI).
And thus for me, Die lasterhaften Balladen und Lieder des Francois Villon has been and will always be a solid four stars, but although I do highly recommend this book, I do leave the caveat that one really does need to read Die lasterhaften Balladen und Lieder des Francois Villon as adaptations and not as straight translations of François Villon and that a decent level of fluency in the the German language is also required (and of course, that it equally helps to be familiar with Villon’s poetry in the original French as well).
Vor 500 Jahren verschwand Francois Villon. Er hinterließ Balladen, lasterhafte Lieder, ein kleines und ein großes Testament. Von ihm stammen die irritierenden Verse: "Ich sterbe dürstend an der der Quelle, Ich glühe heiß, mir klappert Zahn an Zahn. Ich sitze frierend an der Feuerstelle. Im eigenen Vaterland ein fremder Mann." Paul Zech versteht es, in seinem Kapitel über das "Leben und Werk des Francois Villon" diese Zeit lebendig werden zu lassen. Villon war ein freier Geist, ein Raufbold und Saufkumpan, der gefährlich mit der Justiz zu tun bekam. Er wurde 1462 zum Tode durch den Strang verurteilt. Davor aber liebte er eine ganze Reihe von Frauen, denen er Balladen widmete, zum Beispiel diese hier: "Ich bin so wild nach deinem Erdbeermund, ich schrie mir schon die Lunge wund nach deinem weißen Leib, du Weib." Alle Balladen lohnt es zu lesen. Vor allem auch die kleine Ballade von der Mäusefrau, die in Villons Zelle Junge bekam, zeigt, welch freier, aber auch erhabener Geist Villon war. In den Nachgedanken heißt es: "Im milden Licht der Winternacht hab ich mich zu den Mäusen aufgemacht. Du aber fragst: warum denn nur? Hör zu ---: es ist kein Tier so klein, das nicht von dir ein Bruder könnte sein. Ich weiß die Spur . . . nicht erst seit gestern nacht. Mich hat schon manche Frau zum Tier gemacht."
"[...] Und wissen wird, am ellenlangen Stricke, wie schwer mein Hintern wiegt, bald mein Genicke."
Diese Zeilen (ins Deutsche übertragen von Walther Küchler) schreibt Villon wohl in der Zelle nach der Verkündung seines Todesurteils.
Spannende Einblicke ins kurze und intensive Leben sowie Werk des Dichters Francois Villon, der im Frankreich des 15. Jahrhunderts lebt. Auch wenn "lasterhaft" nicht mehr ganz zeitgemäß ist, das Buch ist sehr zu empfehlen!
Paul Zech übersetzt die Lyrik des Francois Villon kongenial in wundersame Reime und liefert eine meisterhafte Biografie des lasterhaften Poeten aus dem 15. Jahrhundert dazu.