Futile Petition - Poem by Stéphane Mallarmé
Princess! to envy the fate of a Hebe
Who appears on this porcelain cup at a kiss
from your lips,
I enjoy my passion but have no rank
other than priest
And I shall scarcely be shown naked on pottery.
As I am not your furry lapdog,
Neither rouge, nor clever games
And I feel your close glance falling on me,
Blonde whose divine coiffeurs are goldsmiths!
Name us.....you whose raspberry laughter
Is joined in a flock of tamed lambs
Grazing on vows and bleating to their
Name us....so that Love with fanlike wings
Combs me, fingering his flute, as I slumber
in the sheepfold,
Princess, name us shepherd of your smiles.
Comments about Futile Petition by Stéphane Mallarmé
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.