"Poèmes saturniens, suivi de Fêtes galantes" de Paul Verlaine

by Sparrow    June 10, 2012

Verlaine offers numerous gardens, women, mandolins, troubled skies -- but I have never had the feeling so strongly in a book of poems (possibly augmented by the language being not mine) that the apparent "plots" were irrelevant to the verses' meaning. Something muscular and blue-purple surges beneath these poetical tales. Is this work "hermetic" -- constructed of complex symbols for occult forces? Maybe.

Here is my translation of the first five lines of "The Nightingale," from the series "Sad Landscapes":

Like the loud flight of a bird in turmoil,

All my memories smash against me,

Flail among the yellow leaves

Of my heart revealing its bent birch trunk

To the silvering violet Waters of Regret...

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 License.

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