The Last Hope, Translation of Paul Verlaine's Sonnet: Dernier Espoir

The Last Hope, Translation of Paul Verlaine’s sonnet : Dernier espoir There stands a tree in the cemetery Thrusting itself up in total freedom, By no means the fruit of bereavement – Spreading itself out on stone unobtrusively. In this tree, be it summer or winter, A bird alights to trill clearly It’s sad song of such fidelity. This tree and this bird do us bind together : You the object of my thoughts, I the absence That time takes stock of in evanescence… Ah ! To live again propped up against your knees ! Ah ! To be alive again ! But stay yet awhile, my lover, Let not the void be my chilling victor… At the least, say : I live but in your intimate core ? © T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013