Sonnet (The Woolen Dress)

Poem by Charles Cros Collection The Collar of ClawsPeriod 19th century

The woolen dress has ivory tones
Framing the bust, and then, the guipures
Adorn the clear complexion and the pure lines,
The laughter that every skeptic must believe.

Oh! I do not want to dig into history
To find the obscure criminals
Or the delicious creatures
Like you, later, covered in glory

Cleopatra, Helen and Laura. It proves
That, perpetual, a storm brews
Beneath your clear, fatal, charming appearance.

You laugh to mock my rhymes;
You believe I have committed all crimes!
I am your slave and I surrender my arms.

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-sonnet-the-woolen-dress-charles-cros/