Phlegm

Poem by Charles Cros Collection The Sandalwood CasketPeriod 19th century

Having tried everything, pale, I no longer believe
In muscular lovers, diners, and the long-haired;
For I, who am dying every minute,
Killed by restless research and literary
Struggles, I fear the exhausting sweetness
Of warm dalliances. I would like a sister,
A woman dreaming with me, side by side,
Shivering, believing she is committing a sin,
And we would love each other with an immortal love,
Without carriage blinds and without hotel rooms.

Charles Cros

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