poet Stéphane Mallarmé

Stéphane Mallarmé

What Silk…

What silk of time’s sweet balm
Where the Chimera tired himself
Is worth the coils and natural cloud
You tend before the mirror’s calm?

The blanks of meditating flags
Stand high along our avenue:
But I’ve your naked tresses too
For burying my contented eyes.

No! The mouth cannot be sure
Of tasting anything in its bite
Unless your princely lover cares

In that mighty brush of hair
To breathe out, like a diamond,
The cry of Glory stifled there.

Poem Submitted: Friday, April 2, 2010

Rating Card

5 out of 5
0 total ratings
rate this poem

Comments about What Silk… by Stéphane Mallarmé

There is no comment submitted by members..

Rating Card

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?