Jonathan ROBIN Poems
It Rains In My Heart - Translation Paul Verlaine – Il Pleure Dans Mon Coeur
It rains in my heart
as on town and on mart,
pours down longings that start
to reign in my heart!
Oh soft ringing of rain
poured on earth, eave and pane,
for poor heart feeling pain,
oh the ringing of rain!
It rains without reason
in hurt heart fears have lease on.
What? - no season for treason?
Do I grieve without reason?
What most hurts me, I wait
‘Why’ not knowing, sad fate,
without love, without hate,
On my heart lies deadweight!
Il pleure dans mon coeur
Comme il pleut sur la ville.
Quelle est cette ...
The era of pleasure is over for ever,
prosperity palls, seldom fails to appal.
When seeking some sanity see we should sever
last links with societal sirens that call
after all with fast laughter, considering never
that Man’s many illusions to dust must soon fall,
as dispassionate Death’s thrall not even keen, clever,
can ever avert, all are measured withal.