Showing posts with label Paul Verlaine. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Paul Verlaine. Show all posts

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Nevermore



 

Memory, memory, what do you want of me? Autumn
makes the thrush fly through colourless air,
and the sun casts a monotonous glare
on the yellowing woods where the north winds hum.
.
We were alone, and walking in dream,
she and I, hair and thoughts wind-blown.
Suddenly, turning her troubling gaze on me,
‘Your loveliest day?’ her voice of living gold,
.
her voice, with its fresh angelic tone, vibrant and sweet.
I gave her my answer, a smile so discreet,
and kissed her white hand with devotion.
.
- Ah! The first flowers, what a fragrance they have!
And how charming the murmured emotion
of that first ‘yes’ from lips that we love!
.
~ Paul Verlaine



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