Evening, Poem by Charles Cros

I have just seen my beloved
And go at random, without aim,
My mouth still all fragrant
With the warm contact of her breasts.

My eyes see through the veil
That recent pleasure leaves there,
In each streetlamp a star,
A friend in each passerby.

Scattered bats,
My sorrows go off into the air
To hide in the chimneys.
Black, against the pale-green sunset.

The gas lights up on the shopfronts…
I, I believe, instead of the sidewalk,
Tread beneath my feet the clouds
Or the carpets of her boudoir.

For she follows my wild wanderings,
And the wind comes to caress me
With the sound of her words
And the perfume of her kiss.

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-evening-charles-cros/