Sonnet to Mme S. de F., poem by Charles Cros

Poem by Charles Cros Collection The Sandalwood CasketPeriod 19th century

To Madame S. de F.

Through the forest of spontaneous impulses,
Brushing aside the thickets, running through the clearings,
And seeking in the turmoil of adventurous thirsts
Forgetfulness of the paradises left for a moment,

Restless, hair floating, eyes agitated,
You go and gather strange plants,
To perfume the insipid air and to hide the stones
Of the earthly prison where we are thrown.

And then, when you have grouped the cut flowers,
You remember the distant ideal,
And their brightness, before that memory, fades.

Then boredom takes you. Your idle hands
Break the pale flowers and throw them to the wind.
And you begin again thus, the following day.

Charles Cros

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Text published on Poésies 123: https://www.poesies123.com/en/poem-sonnet-to-mme-s-de-f-charles-cros/