A woman is love, glory and hope;
To the children she guides, to the consoled man,
She lifts the heart and calms suffering,
Like a spirit from the heavens exiled on earth.
Bowed by labor or by destiny,
Man at her voice rises and his brow clears;
Always impatient in his bounded course,
A smile subdues him and his heart grows gentle.
In this age of iron glory is uncertain:
One must long resign oneself to wait for it.
But who would not love, in her serene grace,
The beauty who gives it or who makes it won?
Gérard de Nerval
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-a-woman-is-love-gerard-de-nerval/
