Search Deeblog
Navigate through Deeblog
Categories and months of Deeblog
Reviews, essays, and translations
« The Sea | Main | Conversation Piece, 1945 »

Verlaine, "Après trois ans"

A work ("Three years gone") by this French poet.  You can read the original here.

I pushed the narrow, wobbling door, 
And strolled within a budding grove,   
As morning light so softly strove,      
Wet sequins on each petal's shore.   

No thing had changed: the rattan chairs,      
The humble pipe of maddened vine, 
The purling spout, its silver spine, 
The aspen old as dullest cares. 

Still roses throb like wildest hearts,  
Still lilies preen to walk the wind,       
Still friends of mine these sweeping larks;

I found above the Veleda,       
Thin plaster flaked at avenue's end, 
Amidst faint scents of reseda.  

Reader Comments

There are no comments for this journal entry. To create a new comment, use the form below.

PostPost a New Comment

Enter your information below to add a new comment.

My response is on my own website »
Author Email (optional):
Author URL (optional):
Some HTML allowed: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <code> <em> <i> <strike> <strong>