Published in 1916: was it ever translated into French?

The Inquest
by W. H. Davies

I took my oath I would inquire,
Without affection, hate or wrath,
Into the death of Ada Wright —
So help me God! I took that oath.

When I went out to see the corpse,
The four months' babe that died so young,
I judged it was seven pounds in weight,
And little more than one foot long.

One eye, that had a yellow lid,
Was shut — so was the mouth, that smiled;
The left eye open, shining bright —
It seemed a knowing little child.

For as I looked at that one eye,
It seemed to laugh, and say with glee:
"What caused my death you'll never know —
Perhaps my mother murdered me."

When I went into court again,
To hear the mother's evidence —
It was a love-child, she explained.
And smiled, for our intelligence.

"Now, Gentlemen of the Jury," said
The coroner — "this woman's child
By misadventure met its death."
"Aye, aye," said we. The mother smiled.

And I could see that child's one eye
Which seemed to laugh, and say with glee:
"What caused my death you'll never know —
Perhaps my mother murdered me."