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O heaven! I see you again, madam,
Of all the loves of my soul
You the tenderest and the first.
Do you remember our story?
As for me, I have kept its memory:
It was, I believe, last summer.
Ah! marquise, when one thinks of it,
That time which in folly we spend,
How it escapes and flees from us!
Do you know well, my old mistress,
That in winter, without it showing,
I shall be twenty, and you eighteen?
Well then! my love, without flattery,
If my rose is a little pale,
It has kept its beauty.
Child! never a Spanish head
Was so beautiful, nor so wild.
Do you remember that summer?
Our evenings, our quarrel?
You gave me, I recall,
Your gold necklace to appease me,
And for three nights, may I die,
I woke every quarter of an hour,
To see it and to kiss it.
And your duenna, O damned duenna!
And the diabolical day
When you thought to kill,
O my pearl of Andalusia,
Your old husband with jealousy,
And your young lover with pleasure!
Ah! take care, marquise,
That love, whatever they say,
Will be found again some day.
When a heart has contained you,
Juana, the place has become
Too vast for another love.
But what am I saying? thus goes the world.
How could I struggle with the wave
Whose waters do not recede?
Close your eyes, your arms, your soul;
Farewell, my life, farewell, madam,
Thus goes the world here below.
Time carries off on its wing
Both spring and the swallow,
And life and the lost days;
Everything goes like smoke,
Hope and fame,
And I who have loved you so much,
And you who no longer remember it!
Alfred De Musset
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-juana-alfred-de-musset/