The Awakening, Translation of Paul Verlaine's Poem: Reveil

The Awakening, Translation of Paul Verlaine’s poem : Réveil I’m back in the bosom of poetry ! Decidedly wealth in the million Has rejected my fullfilment, And this’s a sad denouement. As for me, the chosen proverb to apply : Water clear and pure and this bitter bread Never to go without, as with The gent strumming little tunes on the rebec ! As with me the bed of problems multiply : The long white nights of darkening dreams, Just as with me, the eternal hopes Striding from mornings to evenings ! So’s with me ethics and aesthetics ! I am he on whom poesy laid its indelible stamp Rhyming staggeringly fantastic lines In the penumbra of a smoking oil lamp ! I am the soul chosen by God To keep entranced my contemporaries Through such rare and fine refrains Sung on an empty stomach, O ! Serene Heavens ! I’m back in the bosom of poetry. © T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013