Days of Trial, Poem by Charles Cros

Poem by Charles Cros Collection The Sandalwood CasketPeriod 19th century

Once I lodged up high, right against the gutter:
Often crouched at my skylight window,
Dreaming of my misery, of so many insults endured,
I listened to the vegetable and clothes merchants:
And the roof pipes, masterpiece of chimney sweeps,
Streaked black the depths of my big eyes so sad,
I sometimes heard a soft jingling of bells,
And leaning out, I loved that big man in clogs
Who hurried to sell to consumptive youth
The consolation of warm donkey’s milk.

Charles Cros

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