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Un soir…

Однажды вечером

Des lys dans des longs cols baissaient, en langueur, leur têtes
Ce soir à teinte bleue où l'ouest rougeoyait —
Nous parlions avec toi d'un beau et froid poète,
Vers Leconte de Lisle nos rêves s'envolaient.

Nous ouvrions maintes fois bien de soyeux volumes
Et tout calmes : pas lui, nous nous soufflions longtemps,
Mais là, tous les états sublimes nous ont lui dans la brume
Comme des étoiles nomades qui montent une fois l'an.

Et dans nos âmes sont renés, d'harmonie singulière,
Rimes d'un soleil ancien, monde incroyablement grand,
Et perçant les pénombres, rejetée en arrière,
La tête fine de créole, a l'âme de cygne blanc.

А вот еще:

The Last Court Poet

Our king was lazy - lazy and just as indifferent as his forefathers had been - and he couldn't bring himself to sign the proper forms, so the old court poet who wrote odes for solemn court occasions could be retired, and have a decent pension. And the poet was stubborn, and would not retire himself....

There hasn’t been a transformation...

There hasn’t been a transformation / In nature’s poor and simple state, / But wonderful illumination / In boundless beauty’s stirred of late. / / Our feeble human flesh will doubtless / When dawns the hour appear like this, / When out of the enormous darkness / Wit...

Young Elephant

My love for you’s an elephant, just that. / A young one, born in Paris, or Berlin: / He’ll gallivant, with padded feet and flat, / In zoo attendant-rooms and raise a din. / / Don’t give him rolls or any French cuisine: / A cabbage-head to him is not a treat - / He&rs...

My inexpressive days still passes...

My inexpressive days still passes... / My pain is still inside of me / Like falling petals of the roses / Like nightingales die on a tree / / My love is sad but I not wonder / Because I know what it mean - / The poisoned blood still flows under / Her beautiful satiny skin / / ...

I and You

Yes, I come from another country, / To your world I can never belong. / Tinkling guitars cannot please me, / I want a wild desolate song. / / I do not read my verses in drawing-rooms / To black-coats and dresses like shrouds. / I read my verses to dragons, / To the waterfalls and to...

Jaguar

Today I saw the strangest dream, / I dreamed I sparkled in the sky: / But life, the grim Madame, / Had cast bad fate my way. / / I’d been changed into a jaguar, / I burned with mad desires, / My heart flamed dreadful fire, / My muscles shook and shuddered. / / And in a de...