Works: 2024
The Complaints of an Icarus
The lovers of prostitutes Are happy, healthy, and sated; As for me, my arms are weary Because I have embraced the clouds, It is thanks to the peerless stars That flame in the depth of the sky That my burned out eyes see Only the memories of suns. I tried in vain to find The middle and the end of space; I know not under what fiery eye I feel my pinions breaking; Burned by love of the beautiful I shan't have the sublime honor Of giving my name to the abyss That will serve me as a tomb.
The lovers of prostitutes Are happy, healthy, and sated; As for me, my arms are weary Because I have embraced the clouds, It is thanks to the peerless stars That flame in the depth of the sky That my burned out eyes see Only the memories of suns. I tried in vain to find The middle and the end of space; I know not under what fiery eye I feel my pinions breaking; Burned by love of the beautiful I shan't have the sublime honor Of giving my name to the abyss That will serve me as a tomb.
The Foundation
Your beautiful eyes are tired, poor dear!
Rest awhile, and keep them closed
In this nonchalant pose Where you were surprised with pleasure.
In the courtyard, the fountain chatters
And neither by night nor day is silent Quietly maintaining the rapture
Where love has plunged me tonight.
The spray blossoms out In thousands of flowers
Where Phœbé rejoices In setting her colours
Like heavyweight tears Falling as showers.
Just so is your soul set ablaze
Sensuously burning like lightning Rushing,
with quickness and daring Towards that vast enchanted sky.
Then it spreads out, only to die In a flood of languid sadness
That, by an invisible slope, Descends to the depths of my heart.
The spray blossoms out In thousands of flowers
Where Phœbé rejoices In setting her colours
Like heavyweight tears Falling as showers.
Oh, you that the night has rendered so fair How sweet it is,
when inclined to your breast,
To hear the eternal lament
That sobs in the basin!
Moon, resonant water, blessèd night,
Trees that quiver around us,
Your innocent sighs
Are the mirrors of love.
The spray blossoms out In thousands of flowers
Where Phœbé rejoices In setting her colours
Like heavyweight tears Falling as showers.
Your beautiful eyes are tired, poor dear!
Rest awhile, and keep them closed
In this nonchalant pose Where you were surprised with pleasure.
In the courtyard, the fountain chatters
And neither by night nor day is silent Quietly maintaining the rapture
Where love has plunged me tonight.
The spray blossoms out In thousands of flowers
Where Phœbé rejoices In setting her colours
Like heavyweight tears Falling as showers.
Just so is your soul set ablaze
Sensuously burning like lightning Rushing,
with quickness and daring Towards that vast enchanted sky.
Then it spreads out, only to die In a flood of languid sadness
That, by an invisible slope, Descends to the depths of my heart.
The spray blossoms out In thousands of flowers
Where Phœbé rejoices In setting her colours
Like heavyweight tears Falling as showers.
Oh, you that the night has rendered so fair How sweet it is,
when inclined to your breast,
To hear the eternal lament
That sobs in the basin!
Moon, resonant water, blessèd night,
Trees that quiver around us,
Your innocent sighs
Are the mirrors of love.
The spray blossoms out In thousands of flowers
Where Phœbé rejoices In setting her colours
Like heavyweight tears Falling as showers.
Berthas Eye's
You can scorn more illustrious eyes,
sweet eyes of my child,
through which there takes flight something as good or as tender as night.
Turn to mine your charmed shadows, sweet eyes! Great eyes of a child, adorable secrets, you resemble those grottoes of magic where,
behind the dark and lethargic, shine vague treasures the world forgets.
My child has veiled eyes, profound and vast, and shining like you,
Night, immense, above!
Their fires are of Trust,
mixed with thoughts of Love, t
hat glitter in depths,
voluptuous or chaste
You can scorn more illustrious eyes,
sweet eyes of my child,
through which there takes flight something as good or as tender as night.
Turn to mine your charmed shadows, sweet eyes! Great eyes of a child, adorable secrets, you resemble those grottoes of magic where,
behind the dark and lethargic, shine vague treasures the world forgets.
My child has veiled eyes, profound and vast, and shining like you,
Night, immense, above!
Their fires are of Trust,
mixed with thoughts of Love, t
hat glitter in depths,
voluptuous or chaste