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in three ballades
1
To flee the boredom her departure leaves me,
During the day, I go off through
The woods, seeking well-covered shelters.
Like two dogs coupled on a leash,
Two butterflies run through the green thickets.
Then I lie down in the caressing grass.
The midges, the harvestmen, the ants
Pass over me, without my body feeling them.
The nightingales up there are asleep.
And I, I think of my absent mistress.
In the evening, dragging the arrow that wounds me,
I go, along the street with its various noises.
The gas that shines at the wide-open cafés,
The public balls, waves of obscene suppleness,
Show flesh, good meals for worms.
But, that sometimes, overwhelmed, I consent,
Silent, to drink with you, my friends,
The blond beer, a heavy drunkenness,
Speak, sing! Laughter is permitted you.
And I, I think of my absent mistress.
But it is late..Let us sleep. Let us dream of Her. Is it
The memory of the glittering winters
That unrolls in perverse phantoms,
In my brain that sleep abandons,
To the slow and poignant rhythm of old verses?
At last, fever and the cooling night,
Close my eyes, tame my pale flanks
When the dazzling dawn reappears,
Here come the cries of the unsubdued birds.
And I, I think of my absent mistress.
ENVOI
At your rising, sun, at your setting
That night follows with splendid sowing,
Man, forgetting his exhausting pickaxe,
Smiles to see the promised fruits ripen,
And I, I think of my absent mistress.
II
We sat down in the woods
In the sleepy clearings.
My mind lately at bay
Reassures itself at the scent of mints.
The wind, which moaned yesterday,
Today laughs and caresses me.
The birds sing. I am proud,
For I have found my mistress again.
The street has joyful voices,
The working girls under their mantles
Shiver, as they run. I see
The lovers joining their beloveds.
At the cafés, there is the clear gas,
Bright and charming light.
There is happiness in the air,
For I have found my mistress again.
And in your arms, on your cold breasts,
I have charming lassitudes.
What did you do far away? I believe you,
Whether you are true or whether you lie.
Your breasts, lulling like the sea,
Like the sea calm and treacherous,
Put me to sleep… No more bitter doubt!
For I have found my mistress again.
ENVOI
To you, thanks! railway,
I was alone; but one evening of drunkenness,
You pulled me from that hell,
For I have found my mistress again.
III
Leaves, fall under the fury of the wind
And under the atrocious rain of November.
All splendor, in the end, falls apart.
The water, troubled, loses its deceiving reflection.
Thus all my former happiness goes away.
The sweet retreats of my charmed soul
Are laid bare, without birds. The future
And my projects, strong and brilliant army,
Are in rout at your mere memory,
O my mistress absolutely loved!
I lived so long in your unnerving charm,
As if nourished on ginger cakes,
As if intoxicated with vetiver and amber!
And, reassured, I often fell asleep
On your beautiful breasts, warm living ivory.
I would have believed your accustomed voice;
Brutal fate willed to contradict it.
For your long dancing-girl’s gaze lied!…
But I have not, certainly, any repentance,
O my mistress absolutely loved!
And now, alone as in a convent,
I wait in vain for sleep in my room,
Your adorable silhouette arches
In my memory. And I become learned
In intoxicating myself with drugs of the Levant,
Whether my fervor be praised or blamed,
I want to love you, having no better leisure.
You will remain in me like a cameo,
Like a warm perfume that cannot grow moldy,
O my mistress absolutely loved!
ENVOI
World jealous of my embalmed life,
Hell of fertilizer, coal and leather,
I hate your promised goods, dirty smoke! …
To think only of you, always, where to flee,
O my mistress absolutely loved?
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-drama-charles-cros/