Kabbalistic Sonnet, Poem by Charles Cros

In our bitter and feverish life
Your strange splendor appears,
Haughty lighthouse on the dreadful coast;
And to see you is joy and regret.

For our soul, which boredom hollows,
Yields intoxicated to your allure,
And would want you the happy queen
Of a world that would adore you.

But your eyes say, Sidonie,
In their luminous irony
Their melancholy pride,

That on your brow, from which fine gold radiates,
It suffices to wear the crown
Of ideal royalty.

Charles Cros

Translation generated by Poésies 123 with assistance from the deepseek-chat artificial-intelligence model.

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