It Was in June, in the Garden

Poem by Emile Verhaeren Period 19th century

It was in June, in the garden,
It was our hour and our day;
And our eyes gazed, with such love,
On things,
That it seemed to us the roses gently opened
And saw us and loved us.

The sky was purer than it had ever been:
The insects and the birds
Flew in the gold and in the joy
Of an air as frail as silk;
And our kisses were so beautiful
That they exalted both the light and the birds.

You would have said a happiness that suddenly turns azure
And wants the whole sky to shine;
All life entered, through sweet breaches,
Into our being, to make it greater.

And it was nothing but invoking cries,
And mad impulses and prayers and vows,
And the need, suddenly, to recreate gods,
In order to believe.

Emile Verhaeren

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-it-was-in-june-in-the-garden-emile-verhaeren/