To Madame N. Menessier

Poem by Alfred De Musset Collection Early PoemsPeriod 19th century

Madame, he is happy, the one whose thought
(Whether of pleasure, of sorrow, or of love)
Could serve as a sister to yours for a single day.
His soul into your soul for an instant has passed;

The dream of his heart one evening halted,
Like a pilgrim, on the enchanted threshold
Of the marvelous palace all peopled with enchantments
Where in their white veils your reveries sleep.

What does it matter that soon, forgotten for another,
From your crimson lips it has flown away
As the light bird flies away after the storm?

When it crossed again the mysterious threshold,
Your lips gilded it, in their divine language,
With a melodious smile.

Alfred De Musset

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