Serene Hours, Poem by Charles Cros

To Victor Meunier

I have penetrated many mysteries
At which humans are amazed:
Grimoires of every land,
Elemental beings and laws.

Dead words, austere numbers
Left my hopes numb;
Love opened its paradises to me
And the embrace of its panthers.

The magical power in my hands
Still eludes me. To the jasmines
The thistles have joined their hatreds.

I do not weep for it; for the Beauty
That I dream of, before the tomb,
Will have made me serene hours.

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-serene-hours-charles-cros/