Paul Verlaine Poems
|41.||Oh, Heavy, Heavy My Despair||3/30/2010|
|42.||Poemes Saturniens - Prologue||3/30/2010|
|43.||Since Shade Relents||3/30/2010|
|44.||Sleep, Darksome, Deep||3/30/2010|
|45.||Son, Thou Must Love Me||3/30/2010|
|49.||Tears Fall In My Heart||3/30/2010|
|50.||The False Fair Days||3/30/2010|
|51.||The Keyboard, Over Which Two Slim Hands Float||3/30/2010|
|53.||The Rosy Hearth||3/30/2010|
|54.||The Scene Behind The Carriage Window Panes||3/30/2010|
|55.||The Sky-Blue Smiles Above The Roof||3/30/2010|
|56.||The Tree's Reflection||3/30/2010|
|57.||The Young Fools (Les Ingénus)||1/20/2003|
|58.||Tis The Feast Of Corn||3/30/2010|
|59.||Un Grand Sommeil Noir||3/30/2010|
|61.||What Sayest Thou, Traveller||3/30/2010|
The Young Fools (Les Ingénus)
High-heels were struggling with a full-length dress
So that, between the wind and the terrain,
At times a shining stocking would be seen,
And gone too soon. We liked that foolishness.
Also, at times a jealous insect's dart
Bothered out beauties. Suddenly a white
Nape flashed beneath the branches, and this sight
Was a delicate feast for a young fool's heart.
Evening fell, equivocal, dissembling,
The women who hung dreaming on our arms
Spoke in low voices, words that had such charms
That ever since our stunned soul has been trembling.
Apres Trois Ans
When I had pushed the narrow garden-door,
Once more I stood within the green retreat;
Softly the morning sunshine lighted it,
And every flow'r a humid spangle wore.
Nothing is changed. I see it all once more:
The vine-clad arbor with its rustic seat. . . .
The waterjet still plashes silver sweet,
The ancient aspen rustles as of yore.