Paul Verlaine

(1844-1896 / France)

Paul Verlaine Poems

41. Epilogue 3/30/2010
42. I'Ve Seen Again The One Child 3/30/2010
43. The Tree's Reflection 3/30/2010
44. Sleep, Darksome, Deep 3/30/2010
45. The Sky-Blue Smiles Above The Roof 3/30/2010
46. The Piano 3/30/2010
47. Hope Shines 3/30/2010
48. Bruxelles 3/30/2010
49. Heavy, My Despair 3/30/2010
50. Ariettes Oubliees 3/30/2010
51. A Une Femme 3/30/2010
52. Colloque Sentimental 3/30/2010
53. Chanson D'Automne 3/30/2010
54. Tears Fall In My Heart 3/30/2010
55. Green 3/30/2010
56. Birds In The Night 3/30/2010
57. Moonlight 1/30/2006
58. Il Pleure Dans Mon Coeur 3/30/2010
59. Clair De Lune 3/30/2010
60. Autumn Song 3/30/2010
61. The Young Fools (Les Ingénus) 1/20/2003

Comments about Paul Verlaine

  • Fabrizio Frosini Fabrizio Frosini (12/17/2015 12:41:00 PM)

    those verse are in «Aspiration», Paul Verlaine ('Premiers vers')

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  • Fabrizio Frosini Fabrizio Frosini (12/17/2015 12:31:00 PM)

    «Là, tous les sons rêvés, là, toutes les splendeurs Inabordables»

    There, all the sounds dreamed, there, all the splendors unaffordable

Best Poem of Paul Verlaine

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.

Read the full of The Young Fools (Les Ingénus)

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.

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