Lullaby, Poem by Charles Cros

There is a foolish hour
When one must sleep.
There is also the feast
When one must take delight.

But when you bow your head
With a sigh
Upon my heart, my heart stops
And I am going to die…

No! delighted by your lies,
O daughter of wolves,
I fall asleep drowned in dreams

Between your knees.
After my heart that you gnaw,
What shall we eat?

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-lullaby-charles-cros-2/