Pantomime, Poem by Paul Verlaine

Pierrot, who has nothing of a Clitandre,
Empties a flask without further waiting,
And, practical, starts in on a pie.

Cassandre, at the end of the avenue,
Sheds an unacknowledged tear
Over his disinherited nephew.

That rascal Harlequin plots
The abduction of Columbine
And pirouettes four times.

Columbine dreams, surprised
To feel a heart in the breeze
And to hear voices in her heart.

Paul Verlaine

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-pantomime-paul-verlaine/