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Conquistador, Translation of Paul Verlaine's tercets: Conquistador

T Wignesan Avatar T Wignesan - LIFETIME Premium Member T Wignesan - Premium MemberPremium Member Send Soup Mail  Block poet from commenting on your poetry

Below is the poem entitled Conquistador, Translation of Paul Verlaine's tercets: Conquistador which was written by poet T Wignesan. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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Conquistador, Translation of Paul Verlaine's tercets: Conquistador

Conquistador, Translation of Paul Verlaine’s tercets : Conquistador

Message to fellow soupers: I have been trying to upload, in vain, yet another translation of a 
 Paul Verlaine poem titled: "Ballade in favour of those called Decadents and Symbolists" since 28/09/2013, so if anyone is interested in reading it, just Google it or go to my pages in other poetry sites like PoemHunter, PoemsAbout, ZCommunications, etc. Thank you. T. Wignesan

(Published in « La Revue blanche », April 1894 , under the title : « Mal de mer » ; and « Pall Mall Magazine » November 1894. Source : Jean-Yves Favre’s  Paul Verlaine : Œuvres Poétiques Complètes. Paris : Robert Laffont, 1992) T. Wignesan

 My heart looms heavy as the ocean waters rear
From having left behind a cherished being dear
Who grows sad by the day, embittered by fear

Over the oceans, alas I must depart
With the heart stout and the soul stalwart
Even if from the Queen exile I must out

Exiling myself only to return to pasture
Though much more joyous beckons the future
Than thoughts of remembrances’ adventure…

My heart has grown alike by many a wave
Pushed up in an enormous mass concave
Immense breast upon which the world doesn’t rave…

O ! so far a away to be safe from fear
Yet left without care the being so dear
Excepting just that which holds down one tear.

I board ship while the tempest rages
With this hope which keeps gnawing for ages :
To find treasure which my quest assuages.

To bring back to her in merriment :
Gold, silver, pearl and diamond
With my heart as a supplement.

The waters rage, the ocean pregnant bulges
Terrible state : falling and rising spasms
Stooping low to make huge chasms.

Struggling as though forming a tomb
While with courage and with aplomb
The sailor wrestles even as waters loom

Meanwhile without respite the hurricane
Cradled like an infant lost in dreamy bane 
The ocean holds to course or inhumes sane

Dreaming of gold by masses and more
Filling up infinite rows of corridor,
For my Sovereign, my life I lay down ever more…
                                                    November 1893, London

© T. Wignesan – Paris,  2013
 
  

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