the world is reduced to a single dark wood

for our four eyes’ astonishment,– a beach for two

faithful children,– a musical house

for one pure sympathy,– I shall find you.

Should there be here below

but a single old man, handsome

and calm in the midst

of incredible luxury, I shall be at your feet.

Should I have realized all your memories,–

should I be the one who can bind you

hand and foot,– I shall strangle you.

* When we are very strong,– who draws back?

very gay,– who cares for ridicule?

When we are very bad,– what would they do with us?

Deck yourself, dance, laugh.

I could never throw Love out of the window.

* My comrade, beggar girl, monster child!

O it’s all one to you these unhappy women,

these wiles and my discomfiture.

Bind yourself to us with your impossible voice, your voice!

sole soother of this vile despair.

* An overcast morning in July. A taste of ashes flies through the air;–

an odor of sweating wood on the hearth,–

dew-ret flowers– devastation along the promenades–

the mist of the canals over the fields– why not incense and toys already?

* I have stretched ropes from steeple to steeple;

garlands from window to window;

golden chains from star to star, and I dance.

* The upland pond smokes continuously.

What witch will rise against the white west sky?

What violet frondescence fall?

* While public funds evaporate in feasts of fraternity,

a bell of rosy fire rings in the clouds.

* Reviving a pleasant taste of Indian ink,

a black powder rains on my vigil.

I lower the jets of the chandelier,

I throw myself on my bed,

and turning my face towards the darkness,

I see you, my daughters! my queens!