Songs in the Night
The side is the splashed blue and green fires,
Luminous and peaceful Geneva this evening
Sleep in the water of the lake, moving and spilled,
The half-moon arrives at the hight of the mountain and stay
— Fainting spell of the humid and fading air
Which falls depilated on the flows weary and weak;
A ship wait coming to sleep in the roadstead,
It hears a crossing, then decreasing eddy.
The passers-by are going, sing to adventure braves,
Hear the sleepy water lapping
In the large and plain night where squishy carriage
Make a muted noise of footsteps and bells.
A little of wind falls on the near hills
By now, ant winds up to tired trees,
It flows softly an odour of cuisine
At doors of hotels open on the docks.
— And this is suddenly, strange burst
The cry of violins in the shadow who keeps silent,
It’s like if the night was lit up in scarlet
And which all desire of the city sang…
By violins, by sings of Napoli or of Venise,
Music of misery et of stunning,
It’s like if the night same have this crisis
Of laughs, of sighs, of tears, strangely!
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