marine

The sounding ocean
Throbs beneath the eye
Of the moon veiled darkly
And throbs again,

While a violent sinister
Lightning bolt,
Its long zigzag brilliant,
Slits a sky of bister,

And each wave,
In convulsive bounds,
Goes, comes, shouts, glistens,
The length of reefs,

And in the sky
Where the tempest ranges,
The thunder roars
Terrifyingly.

Paul Verlaine

winter dream

To *** Her

In Winter, we’ll travel in a small pink coach
With blue cushions,
Well installed, mad kisses nesting
In cosy corners.

You’ll close your eyes, not to see through the glass
The leer of dark evening,
Snarling monster, droves of black demons,
Packs of black wolves.

Then you’ll feel something scratch against your cheek…
A little kiss, brief as a startled spider,
Will run up your neck…

You’ll bow your head and say: ‘Find it for me!’
–And we’ll take the time it takes to find that creature
–Which loves to travel…

Arthur Rimbaud

hope

We speak with the lip, and we dream in the soul,
Of some better and fairer day;
And our days, the meanwhile, to that golden goal
Are gliding and sliding away.
Now the world becomes old, now again it is young,
But “The better” ‘s forever the word on the tongue.

At the threshold of life hope leads us in
Hope plays round the mirthful boy;
Though the best of its charms may with youth begin,
Yet for age it reserves its toy.

Friedrich Schiller

cause

Where anger was just a flown, where a quarrel was
just silence,
Where conciliation was just a mutual smile, where
grace was just a glance:
Of that very love now see the destruction which has
happened!
– You grovel on the ground near my feet, but I am
mean and find no release from my anger.

Amaruka