After Three Years, Poem by Paul Verlaine

Poem by Paul Verlaine Collection Poems SaturnianThemes TimePeriod 19th century

Having pushed the narrow gate that sways,
I walked in the little garden
Softly lit by the morning sun,
Spangling each flower with a damp spark.

Nothing has changed. I saw everything again: the humble arbor
Of wild vine with the rattan chairs…
The fountain still makes its silvery murmur
And the old aspen its everlasting complaint.

The roses quiver as before; as before,
The great proud lilies sway in the wind,
Every lark that comes and goes is known to me.

I even found Velléda still standing,
Whose plaster is flaking at the end of the avenue,
– Slender, amid the faint scent of mignonette.

Paul Verlaine

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