Offering to the Nature
Nature of profound heart on that the climate soothing,
Nothing will not have like however warmly loved
Light of days and pleasure of things
Water glowing et the Earth or the life have germinated
Forest, ponds et fertile plains
Have more affected my eyes which look humans,
I’m leaned at the beauty of the world
And I folded the our of seasons in my hands.
I bing our suns so that a crown
On my plain forehead of the pride and of simplicity
My eyes have some as the rolls of autumn
And I wept on the arms of your summers
I come at you without fear and carefulness
You are giving my reason to the good and the bad,
Having for all joy and all knowledge
Your impetuous love to tricks of animal.
Like a flower bloom or accommodate bees,
My life expanded perfumes and songs,
And my quiet heart is like a basket
Which you offer ivy et branches leaning.
Submit so that wave ou tree reflect,
I knew the desires which burn in our nights
And which give birth to the heart of men and beasts
The beautiful impatience and the divine will.
I keep you in my arms from all life, Nature.
Ah! Does it need my eyes fill upped by shadow a day,
And which I go to the country without wind and greenness
Who didn’t visit the light and the love…
The Footprint
I had to put with so good so strong to the life
Of one so roughly grasp and of one such hold tight
Which before the gentleness of the day make me delighted
It will warm up my intertwining.
The sea throughly on the slack world
Will guard in the wrong root of its water
Le mood of my gentleness that is bitter and salty
And rolls on the moving days like a boat.
I let me in the line of hills
The warmth of my eyes which saw bloom,
Et the cicada existed with branches of thorn
Will vibrate the cry strident of my desire.
In the field of spring new greenness
And thick turf on the edge of gulf
Felt heave et fly like wings
Shadows of my hands which are squeezed many.
The Nature which was my joy and my place
Will breathe in the air my persistant passion,
Et on the exhaustion of the humane sadness
I will made the unique form of my heart.
Éva
See, the hill is blue et the shadow agile already
On the white way expands their vapours
The doors of houses brighten to the town.
— Éva, might be without pride, without carefulness and fear
The sun all the day burnt your window,
Your arms were idle et your heart was heavy,
— Here are hour or delightful force go to rebirth
The moon is favourable to love of dreamers
Go in the wood leafy, under the coolness of branchs.
Oh, mourner irritate and hod of desire,
The nature infinite and profond leans
On they go unite and admit of pleasure.
See : it’s for the delight and heavy failure
That the air is rosy and of mist order.
The light geometrids who danse in silence
Fly away gently of bushes move,
Look ; the nature, before, August, eternal,
Which are not affected by humans’ pride and labour,
Flutter in the night and unfold like a wing
When the being looks for the being in the ways of secret.
Il does not know if its grapevine and its apples
Be enough to wants of travellers of the day,
It starts and laughs when the children of men
Hurry in its shadow on seasons of love.
— Éva, juices, honey, vigour et resins
Flow in the light afternoon for perfume your heart,
Give in divine drawing of the dream which progress
There is the hour ou the flower bend on the flower.
Stars on the sky light one to one,
Leaves moving brush against gently,
Waves of sea rise to the moon.
Groan of the birds lighten at times…
— Éva, enter to your circumference in the happy season,
Wash your heart in hardy water of the destiny,
Accept without shaking harmonious struggle
The bee of desire this evening plays on the thyme;
See, the infinite world looks at you et wishes you,
— Do you feel creep through you the perfumes around.,
Your body is profond this night like the Earth,
Your heart opens and throw itself, and weep : it’s the love…
Ardent Passing Away
Passing away the condensation ardent of the being,
When perfume, propensity and heavy like a flowerhead,
The heart of which rumour of air balances and touch
It fades into painful and sweet pleasure.
To pass away soaks their hands to coolnesses of greenery,
Reach their eyes to eyes blooming of green woods,
Take part in ancient universal awakening,
Having in the same time your youngness and age.
Go away calmly with the end of the day :
Passing away by golden arrows at gentle dusk
Feel the sweet soul and peaceful decline
Towards the profond ground and the immortal love.
Go away for enjoy in it and its mystery
Being in grass, grain, warmth and water,
Sleep in the plain of green rings,
Pass away for still being more near the ground…
The Hometown
Happy who in her city, host of her maison
Of the joyful and bronzed morning of the life
Taste same places the return of seasons
And see their mornings of a clam evening continues
Faith et naive like beautiful pigeons,
The moon et the sun come on her residence,
Et equal to the rosebush which increases of buds,
Her sweet life bloom layers of each hour.
It goes, to tie between them suckers of the destiny,
Combine the harsh branches et the more early approaches,
And her tidy heart is like her garden
Full of new flowers on bald bark.
Happy those who knew to taste the shadow and the love
Of the vivid town of their rich hillside
And which can, in the long continuation of days,
Refresh her dream to river of her town…
It will be longtime light this night
It will be longtime light this night, the days make longer.
The word of the day lively disperse and flee,
And the overhead trees can’t be seen in the night
Remain awakes in the white evening, and dream…
Power exquisites, gods evocative, perfumes,
The chestnut trees, on the vast air of gold and of heaviness,
Expand their perfumes and may spread
Let smoke through me your rich casseroles!
Perfume of flowers of April, scent of haymakings
Odour of the first fire in the old houses
And swoons to the velvet of rigid hangings;
Soothing flavour which separates to four,
Perfume which languishes to dark bindings,
Memory vanished of our young love
Which wakes up and sighs to the taste of hair;
Smoke of wine which sprouts to brutal blasphème,
Sweetness of the grain of incense which make one humiliates.
Extract of blue iris, dust of sandalwood,
Perfumes exasperate of the softened ground;
Blow the seas loaded with kelp and salt,
Warm up surrounding of the burning packed;
Claustral scattered torpor to pages of missal,
Acrid ferment of the soil which smokes after the rain;
Odour of wood to the dawn and the hot espaliers,
Intoxicating freshness which round the washings,
Invigorating balms to familiar perfumes,
Vapour of tea which sing with going up to beams!…
— I have in my heart a park where my ill go astray,
From transparent vases where the lilac fade,
A scapular where sleeps the box of holy palms,
Of bottles of poison and of unholy essence.
Fruits picked very soon mature slowly
At a corner withdraw on straw mats,
And the subtle aroma of its avortion
Break through of an invisible notch…
— And my injection watch that wake in the night
Know a secret vault which the perfuming myrrh,
Where my dolorous past, fading et reduced,
Is a heap of ash hot again that smokes.
— I go to drink the breath et the fluidities
Of odorous chills which the wind scatter.
And I make my heart, to feet of pleasures,
A Oriental vase where burns a chip…
The Inner Life
Be in the nature so that a humane tree,
Extend their desires like the deep foliage,
And feel, by the peaceful night and by thunderstorm
The universal energy effects dans their hands.
Live, have the rays of the Sun on the face,
Drink the hot salt of sea sprays and tears
And warmly taste the joy and the pain
That make a fog humane dans the space.
Feel in his lively heart the air, the fire and le blood
Flutter so that the wind on the earth :
— Rise to real et lean to mystery,
Be the day which rise and the shadow which fell down.
Like the purple evening of colours of cherry
Let the heart vermilion colour the flame and the water,
And like the clear dawn back of the hill
Have the love which dreams, sitting at the edge of world…
Autumn
Here is the cold radiants de September :
The wind want to enter and play in the room;
But the house has the serious air, this morning,
And let it outside witch weeps at the garden.
Like all of voices of summer was vanished!
Why it doesn’t take mantises with statues?
All is in transit, all aspen and all has fear ; I believe
Which the kiss shake and which the water has cold same.
The leaves in the wind flow like crazy ;
They want to go where the birds take off,
But the wind returns them and blocks their path :
They had passed away on the lakes tomorrow.
The silence is light and calm ; a minute
The wind passes through like a player of flute,
And then all returns still silent,
And the Love which plays under the goodness of skies
Returns for heat before the fire which blazes
Their large hands of cold and their chilly feet.
And the old house which he will going to look
Tresses and is touched to feel him enter.
Offering to Pan
This cup de wood, black like a seed,
Where I knew, of an insinuating and hard blade
Sculpte skilfully the leave of the grape
With its crease, its knots, its spin et its crimp,
I dedicate it to Pan, in memory of the day
Where the shepherd Damis snatching this cup from me
After that I drank from it came and drank from it in turn
Smiling of see me become red of his daring.
Not knowing where find the altar of the cornel god
I let offering at bottom of that rock
— Mais now my heart has the continuous taste
Of a kiss more deep, more powerful and more close…
Rhodocleia
Rhodocleia, leaning against the bushes of the way,
Filled with foliage and with berries her basket,
When the shepherd Hylas bit him the hand
Of a kiss more stinging which the sting de bee.
She sensed slip just at bottom of her heart
The spur and the honey of the rough caress,
And the faltering steps of pleasure and of fear,
She walked long time in the thick lucerne.
And when she returned to the house, the evening,
Her heart was if heavy and if hot in her throat
Which she had to return to her bed without sitting down
Around nut dish, of chestnuts and barley.
This meal fragrant that she couldn’t eat.
— Thinking which its thus which the love dreams —
Rhodocleia which moved by the shepherd’s kiss
The offer pleasingly to immortal Venus…
Child Éros
Child Éros which plays in the shadow of surgeon
_ _ And tree for the clear sources,
You which keeps thus that a couple of pigeons
_ _ The love and the anger,
Pass without wait for you at the doorway of my house,
_ _ Not enter this year :
My soul of loves that had the other season
_ _ Is surprised still.
Because You mix the honey with your kisses
_ _ On the jealous lips
The bitter hatred thus which the fruit of rowan tree.
_ _ The acid and red hatred…
The conscience
Azur incorrupotible, luminous distress,
Since you has wanted enough visit me,
I returned my heart between your careful hands
For that you guides it, by the dark nights,
At the way of the exact and clear truth.
Before that you visit, my great friend.
My life was still, to your tender sunrise,
In love of brilliance, of chandelier et of parade
Like a swan who flees the calm waters of the harbour
For see on the sea et dancing in the wind.
The voluptuous swarm of turbulent hours
Coming, in bouncing, to me like a roe deer;
I averted my eyes from their gallant crowd
And I heal for you my soul hope
Of the sin of anger et of the sin of pride.
You will be in my heart like a fortress
And I will the archer who become old in the travel
You will be at the deep country of my tenderness,
Between the green gardens of my fine drunkenness
The root of Sun without shadow et sans bending.
Oh, you, modesty of which is shy and fragile
You Will be in my good heart like a blue lake,
And you will see on your tranquil wave,
Like the pigeons that the branches string
My desires persistent, brave and scrupulous…
The Dreams
The face of them which we don’t like still
Appear sometimes at the windows of dreams,
And goes lighting up on pale decorations.
In a glow of moon which rise.
It floats like heavenly to graces of his bodies.
His view is intense and his mouth attentive :
It seems that they have seen the gardens of the passing away
And they more less in them of real doesn’t follow.
The furtive sweetness of their advent
Control our desires to their favourable wishes,
We sense in them imperious lovers
Venus for us so that the fate is fulfilled;
They are the slow gestures, sweet and silent,
Our life unite in their expectation :
It seems to the bodies utile par the eyes
And which the spirit are the pages which we have read.
The mystery is exhilarated by the mutes of voices,
To the enigma of the eyes, to the trouble of the smile,
To the grand pity which we go sometimes
By his watch, which becomes imprecise and withdraws…
They are the gazes of which we don’t care,
Where the heart is too tired to defend itself,
Where your spirit is sad so that the moment of death;
They are the unions pitiful and tender…
And those rest, when the dream will fled,
Mysteriously the elected mesonage,
Those to whom we will leave, in the secret of nights,
Offered our lips of shadow, opened our arms of dream.
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