Lullaby, Poem by Charles Cros

Poem by Charles Cros Collection The Sandalwood CasketPeriod 19th century

To the Count of Trévelec

Let us fall asleep, little black cat.
See, I have put the candle-snuffer
On the candle.
You will think of birds
In the woods, of feline muzzles…
I shall dream of Her.

We have not had any coffee,
And, in our well-warmed bed
(Whoever stays awake, weeps.)
We shall sleep, paws in arms.
While you purr,
I shall forget the time.

Beneath your fine, heavy-lidded eyes,
Will gleam again the love-games
Of the gutter.
As every night, I shall believe
I see her, who coldly has torn apart
My whole life.

And your nightmare on the rooftops
Will tell you the horror of being three
In an idyll.
I shall endure her mocking eyes,
Her false cousin, and her crocodile
Tears.

If you wake with a start
Scratched, bitten, falling from the top
Of the roof, I myself
Shall die under the treacherous blow
Of a sword at the end of the long arm
Of the fop she loves.

Then, out of bed, in the gray morning,
We shall search, you for mice,
I for liquids
That make us forget everything,
For, deep down, man and tomcat
Are quite stupid.

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-lullaby-charles-cros/