To J.-Y. Colonna

Poem by Gérard De Nerval Period 19th century

Do you know it, Daphne, that old romance
At the foot of the sycamore… or beneath the white mulberries,
Under the plaintive olive tree, or the trembling willows,
That song of love, which always begins again?

Do you recognize the Temple with its immense peristyle,
And the bitter lemons where your teeth left their mark,
And the fatal grotto for imprudent guests
Where the old seed of the conquered serpent sleeps?

Do you know why, over there, the volcano has opened again?
It is that one day we had touched it with an agile foot,
And with its powder the horizon was covered far away!

Since a Norman Duke broke your gods of clay,
Always beneath the palm of Virgil’s tomb
The pale hydrangea joins the green laurel.

Gérard de Nerval

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-to-j-y-colonna-gerard-de-nerval/