Epitaph

Poem by Gérard De Nerval Period 19th century

He lived sometimes gay as a starling,
By turns in love, carefree and tender,
Sometimes gloomy and dreamy like a sad Clitandre.
One day he heard someone ringing at his door.

It was Death! Then he begged her to wait
Until he had put the final period to his last sonnet;
And then without emotion, he went to lie down
At the bottom of the cold chest where his body shivered.

He was lazy, as the story says,
He let the ink dry too much in the inkwell.
He wanted to know everything but he knew nothing.

And when the moment came when, weary of this life,
One winter evening, at last his soul was taken from him,
He went away saying: “Why have I come?”

Gérard de Nerval

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