Starry Night
From "Stalactites"
Théodore de Banville
Starry night, beneath your veils,
Beneath your perfumed breezes,
With sadly sighing lyre,
I dream of love that passes.
In the depths of my heart,
Where sadness lies interred,
The soul of my beloved stirs
And in dreaming woods is heard.
In the shade of a leafy bole
When only a sigh I whisper,
You return, poor wakened soul,
Your shroud as pale as plaster.
At our fountain, I see afresh
Your glance as blue as the skies;
This rose, it is your breath
And these stars, they are your eyes.
Translation: © David Paley