The Young Fools
High-heels were struggling with a full-length dress
So that, between the wind and the terrain,
At times a shining stocking would be seen,
And gone too soon. We liked that foolishness.
Also, at times a jealous insect’s dart
Bothered out beauties. Suddenly a white
Nape flashed beneath the branches, and this sight
Was a delicate feast for a young fool’s heart.
Evening fell, equivocal, dissembling,
The women who hung dreaming on our arms
Spoke in low voices, words that had such charms
That ever since our stunned soul has been trembling.
The Piano
The keyboard, over which two slim hands float,
Shines vaguely in the twilight pink and gray,
Whilst with a sound like wings, note after note
Takes flight to form a pensive little lay
That strays, discreet and charming, faint, remote,
About the room where perfumes of Her stray.
What is this sudden quiet cradling me
To that dim ditty’s dreamy rise and fall?
What do you want with me, pale melody?
What is it that you want, ghost musical
That fade toward the window waveringly
A little open on the garden small?
Paul Verlaine (1844-1896) was a French poet and prominent member of two late-19th-century literary movements: the Symbolists, which sought to express transcendent truths through suggestive diction, metaphorical language and evocative settings, and the Decadent movement, which eschewed nature for the greater “reality” of art, seeking to promote its aesthetic by subverting traditional moral standards with shocking imagery and subject matter. Outside of his poetry, Verlaine is perhaps best known for his stormy love affair with fellow French poet Arthur Rimbaud, whom he shot with a pistol during a quarrel.
The Young Fools
High-heels were struggling with a full-length dress
So that, between the wind and the terrain,
At times a shining stocking would be seen,
And gone too soon. We liked that foolishness.
Also, at times a jealous insect’s dart
Bothered out beauties. Suddenly a white
Nape flashed beneath the branches, and this sight
Was a delicate feast for a young fool’s heart.
Evening fell, equivocal, dissembling,
The women who hung dreaming on our arms
Spoke in low voices, words that had such charms
That ever since our stunned soul has been trembling.
The Piano
The keyboard, over which two slim hands float,
Shines vaguely in the twilight pink and gray,
Whilst with a sound like wings, note after note
Takes flight to form a pensive little lay
That strays, discreet and charming, faint, remote,
About the room where perfumes of Her stray.
What is this sudden quiet cradling me
To that dim ditty’s dreamy rise and fall?
What do you want with me, pale melody?
What is it that you want, ghost musical
That fade toward the window waveringly
A little open on the garden small?
Paul Verlaine (1844-1896) was a French poet and prominent member of two late-19th-century literary movements: the Symbolists, which sought to express transcendent truths through suggestive diction, metaphorical language and evocative settings, and the Decadent movement, which eschewed nature for the greater “reality” of art, seeking to promote its aesthetic by subverting traditional moral standards with shocking imagery and subject matter. Outside of his poetry, Verlaine is perhaps best known for his stormy love affair with fellow French poet Arthur Rimbaud, whom he shot with a pistol during a quarrel.
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