On a Dead Woman

Poem by Alfred De Musset Period 19th century

She was beautiful, if the Night
That sleeps in the dark chapel
Where Michelangelo has made his bed,
Motionless, can be beautiful.

She was good, if it suffices
That in passing the hand opens and gives,
Without God having seen anything, said anything,
If gold without pity gives alms.

She thought, if the vain sound
Of a sweet and rhythmic voice,
Like the brook that moans,
Can make one believe in thought.

She prayed, if two beautiful eyes,
Now fastening on the earth,
Now rising toward the heavens,
Can be called Prayer.

She would have smiled, if the flower
That has not blossomed
Could open to the freshness
Of the wind that passes and forgets it.

She would have wept if her hand,
Coldly placed on her heart,
Had ever, in human clay,
Felt the celestial dew.

She would have loved, if pride,
Like the useless lamp
Lit beside a coffin,
Had not watched over her barren heart.

She is dead, and never lived.
She was pretending to live.
From her hands fell the book
In which she read nothing.

Alfred De Musset

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-on-a-dead-woman-alfred-de-musset/