Emile Verhaeren

(21 May 1855 – 27 November 1916 / St Amands / Belgium)

Emile Verhaeren Poems

41. Je Noie En Tes Deux Yeux Mon Âme Tout Entière 8/6/2012
42. Je Suis Sorti Des Bosquets Du Sommeil 8/6/2012
43. Kato 8/6/2012
44. L'Abreuvoir 8/6/2012
45. L'Action 8/6/2012
46. L'Amante 8/6/2012
47. L'Âme De La Ville 8/6/2012
48. L'Ancienne Gloire 8/6/2012
49. L'Arbre 8/6/2012
50. L'Attente 8/6/2012
51. L'Est, L'Ouest, Le Sud, Le Nord 8/6/2012
52. L'Étable 8/6/2012
53. L'Étal 8/6/2012
54. L'Éternelle Lueur 8/6/2012
55. L'Europe 8/6/2012
56. L'Hérésiarque 8/6/2012
57. L'Immobile Beauté 8/6/2012
58. L'Ombre Est Lustrale Et L'Aurore Irisée 8/6/2012
59. L'Orgueil 8/6/2012
60. La Barque 8/6/2012
61. La Bêche 8/6/2012
62. La Bénédiction De La Mer 8/6/2012
63. La Bourse 8/6/2012
64. La Chance 8/6/2012
65. La Clémence 8/6/2012
66. La Conquête 8/6/2012
67. L'Effort 8/6/2012
68. L'En-Avant 8/6/2012
69. L'Enclos 8/6/2012
70. La Crypte 8/6/2012
71. La Dame En Noir 8/6/2012
72. La Ferme 8/6/2012
73. La Glycine Est Fanée Et Morte Est L'Aubépine 8/6/2012
74. La Grande Chambre 8/6/2012
75. La Joie 8/6/2012
76. La Kermesse 8/6/2012
77. La Louange Du Corps Humain 8/6/2012
78. La Plaine (I) 8/6/2012
79. La Plaine (Ii) 8/6/2012
80. La Pluie 8/6/2012

Comments about Emile Verhaeren

  • David Milton David Milton (2/2/2008 5:59:00 AM)

    Excellent. Translated by? ? ? ?

    3 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
Best Poem of Emile Verhaeren

Infinitely

The hounds of despair, the hounds of the autumnal wind,
Gnaw with their howling the black echoes of evenings.
The darkness, immensely, gropes in the emptiness
For the moon, seen by the light of water.

From point to point, over there, the distant lights,
And in the sky, above, dreadful voices
Coming and going from the infinity of the marshes and planes
To the infinity of the valleys and the woods.

And roadways that stretch out like sails
And pass each other, coming unfolded in the distance, soundlessly,
While lengthening beneath the stars, ...

Read the full of Infinitely

The Cathedral Of Rheims

He who walks through the meadows of Champagne
At noon in Fall, when leaves like gold appear,
Sees it draw near
Like some great mountain set upon the plain,
From radiant dawn until the close of day,
Nearer it grows
To him who goes
Across the country. When tall towers lay
Their shadowy pall

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