Ballad of the Ruin, Poem by Charles Cros

Poem by Charles Cros Collection The Collar of ClawsPeriod 19th century

I have just seen again the land,
The beautiful imaginary domain
Where dazzling horizons
Brought me exquisite perfumes.
Those perfumes and that light
I have not found again.
The stone crumbles in the château.
The grass grows between the paving stones.

The gallery where friends
Came to make merry cheer
Shelters in its moldy paneling
Woodlice and bats;
The nettle has killed even the ivy.
The beautiful greyhounds are dead
That yapped in so clear a voice.
The grass grows between the paving stones.

All the oaths were betrayed.
The memories are in dust,
The noondays extinguished and the nights
Full of terrors and noises.
Who was the haughty chatelaine?
Pastels that the rain has washed away
Remain silent on this mystery.
The grass grows between the paving stones.

ENVOI

Prince, forever silence me;
Raze all these hollowed walls
And sow salt in the earth.
The grass grows between the paving stones.

Charles Cros

Translation generated by Poésies 123 with assistance from the deepseek-chat artificial-intelligence model.

Text published on Poésies 123: https://www.poesies123.com/en/poem-ballad-of-the-ruin-charles-cros/