Imperfect monument of this vaunted century
Who on all fine arts has founded his memory,
Will I always see you, testifying to his glory,
To make a just reproach to his posterity?
Should one be indignant when one admires you?
And that the nations that want to brave us,
Proud of our defects, be entitled to tell us
That we start everything, not to finish anything?
But, O new affront! what a guilty audacity!
Come to debase this divine masterpiece again?
Which subject undertakes to occupy a place
Made to admire the features of the sovereign!
Louvre, a pompous palace that France is proud of,
Be worthy of Louis, your master and your support ;
Come out of the shameful state where the universe abhors you,
And in all your brilliance show yourself like him.
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