G É R A R D D E N E R V A L
Translated by Mark Lamoureux
I am of darkness—widower, —unconsoled
Prince of Acquitaine & the stricken tower:
My one star is dead,—& my lute of the firmament
Bears despair's black sun.
In night's tomb, you consoler
Return to me Posilipo & the Italian sea,
That bloom so pleasured by my blighted heart,
& that trellis where the vine & the rose align.
Am I love or Phoebus?...Lusignan or Biron?
My face still red from the queen's kiss;
I've dreamed in the cavern where the siren swims...
& two times crossed & won the Acheron:
Sang by & by of the lyre of Orpheus,
The saint's sighs & the faerie's shriek.
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