Look at wild Bitter rolling from the mountain tops!
Let us reach, like good pilgrims, green-pillared Absinthe…
Myself: No more of these landscapes.
What is drunkenness, friends?
I had soon – rather, even – rot in the pond,
beneath the horrible scum, near the floating driftwood.
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The poor omnibus driver under the tin canopy,
follows his heavy omnibus along the left bank,and from his inflated groin thrusts away the moneybag.And while [in the] soft shadowwhere there are policemen,the respectable interior of the bus looks at the moonin the deep sky rockingamong its green cotton wool,in spite of the Edictand the still delicate hour,and the fact that the bus isreturning…
When you are seventeen you aren’t really serious.
And the rowdy cafes with their dazzling lights!– You go walking beneath the green lime trees of the promenade.The lime trees smell good on fine evenings in June!The air is so soft sometimes, you close your eyelids;The wind, full of sounds, – the town’s not far away –Carries odours of vines, and odours of beer…II–…
Spring is evidently here;
and Picard from the green Estates laysits splendours wide open! O May!What delirious bare bums!O Sevres Meudon, Bagneux, Asnieres,listen now to the welcome arrivalsscattering springtime joys!They have shakos, and sabers, and tom-toms,and none of the old candleboxes;and skiffs which have nev… nev..are cutting the lake of bloodstained waters.More than ever before, we roister,as on to…
I.
the temple terraces!What has become of the Brahmanwho explained the proverbs to me?Of that time, of that place,I can still see even the old women!I remember silver hours and sunlight by the rivers,the hand of the country on my shoulderand our carresses standing on the spicy plains.–A flight of scarlet pigeons thunders round my thoughts.An…
One of the voices
It is about me, –Sharply expresses itself :Those thousand questionsSpreading their roots Bring in the end,Only drunkenness and madness ;Understand this trickSo gay, so easy :It is only wave, only flower,And that is your family !Then it sings.O So gay, so easy,And visible to the naked eye… –I sing with it, –Understand this trickSo gay,…
In Rome within the Sistine Chapel,
There is a scarlet coloured casketWhere most ancient noses dry:Noses of Thebaid ascetics,Noses of Sangreal canonsIn which livid night firmset is,And the old sepulchral anthems.Into their aridity mysticalIs introduced each morningtideSome filthiness schismaticalGround into a powder fine.Léon DierxOriginal FrenchLes lèvres closes.Vu à RomeIl est, à Rome, à la Sixtine,Couverte d’emblèmes chrétiens,Une cassette écarlatineOù sèchent des…