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Date: February 5th 2010
Regards,
Peter
Bruce email:
pbruce@ford.com mob:
07766 232458
1. The Flower of the waters (Maurice Bouchor, trans. Peter Bruce)
The air is full of an
exquisite scent of lilacs,
Which, cascading in
bloom down the walls,
Infuse the women's
hair.
The sea basks in the
full sunshine�s embrace,
And on the fine sand
where they come to kiss
Stunning waves roll
in.
O sky that must gather
the colour from her eyes,
Breeze that goes to sing
in the flowering lilacs
To emerge all
perfumed,
Rivulets that dampen her
dress,
O green
pathways,
You who fall trembling
at her dear little feet,
Let me see my
beloved!
And my heart is lifted
by this summer morning,
Because a beautiful
child was on the shore,
Letting her luminous
eyes roam over me,
And smiling at me with a
tender and savage air.
You who transfigured
Youth and Love,
You appeared to me then like the essence of things;
My heart flew towards
you, you caught and held it,
And from the half-open
sky roses rained down on us.
What piteous and savage
sound
Will toll the farewell
hour!
The sea rolls on the
shore
Mockingly, and little
caring
That it is time to bid
farewell.
Birds pass by, on open
wing,
Over the near-joyous
abyss;
In full sunlight the sea
is green,
And I bleed,
silently,
Watching the heavens
shine.
I bleed, watching my
life
Drift away upon the
waves;
My very soul is torn
from me
And the dark clamour of
the waves
Covers the noise of my
cries.
Who knows if this cruel
sea
Will bring her back to
my heart?
My gazes are fixed upon
her;
The sea sings, and the mocking wind
Taunts my anguished heart.
2. The Death of Love (Maurice Bouchor, trans. Peter Bruce)
Soon the blue and joyful
isle
Will appear to me among
the rocks;
Upon the silent water
the isle
Floats like a water
lily.
Across the amethyst
sea
The boat gently
glides,
And I will be joyful and
sad
At how much I remember,
soon!
The wind swirled the
dead leaves;
My
thoughts
Swirled like dead
leaves,
In the
night.
Never so gently did the
black sky hold
The thousand golden
roses from whence the petals fell!
A frightening dance, and
the crumpled leaves,
Which rattled
metallically, waltzed,
Seemed to groan under
the stars, and spoke
The inexpressible horror
of past loves.
The tall silver beeches
that the moon kissed
Were spectres: as for
me, all my blood froze
Watching my beloved
strangely smile.
Like the brows of the
dead, our brows paled,
And, mute, leaning
towards her, I could read
That fatal word written
in her wide eyes: oblivion.
The time of lilacs and
the time of roses
Will no longer return to
this springtime;
The time of lilacs and
the time of roses
Has passed, the time of
carnations too.
The wind has changed,
the skies are morose,
And we will no longer
run, and pick
The lilacs in bloom and
the beautiful roses;
The spring is sad and
cannot bloom.
Oh! joyful and sweet
springtime,
That came, last year, to
bathe us in sunlight,
Our flower of love is so
wilted,
Alas! that your kiss
cannot awaken it!
And you, what do you do?
no budding flowers,
No gleam of bright sun
nor cool shade;
The time of lilacs and
the time of roses,
Along with our love, is
dead forever.
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