poet Stéphane Mallarmé

Stéphane Mallarmé

Sonnet: ‘victorieusement Fui Le Suicide…’

Victoriously the grand suicide fled
Foaming blood, brand of glory, gold, tempest!
O laughter if only to royally invest
My absent tomb purple, down there, is spread.

What! Not even a fragment of all that brightness
Remains: it’s midnight, in the shade that fetes us,
Except from the head there’s a treasure, presumptuous,
That pours without light its spoiled languidness,

Yours, always such a delight! Yours, yes,
Retaining alone of the vanished sky, this
Bit of childish triumph as you spread each tress,

Gleaming as you show it against the pillows,
Like the helmet of war of a child-empress
From which, to denote you, would pour down roses.

Poem Submitted: Friday, April 2, 2010

5 out of 5
0 total ratings
rate this poem

Comments about Sonnet: ‘victorieusement Fui Le Suicide…’ by Stéphane Mallarmé

There is no comment submitted by members..
5 out of 5
0 total ratings
rate this poem



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?