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All at once, as if in play,
Mademoiselle, she who moots
a wish to hear how it sounds today
the wood of my several flutes
It seems to me that this foray
tried out here in a country place
was better when I put them away
to look more closely at your face
Yet this vain whistling I suppress
in so far as I can create
given my fingers pure distress
lacking the means to imitate
Your very natural and clear
childlike laughter that charms the ear
Stéphane Mallarmé
Read poems about / on: laughter, today
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