With Muted Strings

Translated by Aleister Crowley, from the French of Paul Verlaine
Drawing by Sydney Joseph

Vanity Fair, October 1915, Vol. 5 No. 2, p 46

 

Calm in the twilight of lofty boughs

Pierce we our love with silence as we drowse;

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Melt we our souls, hearts, senses in this shrine,

Vague languor of arbutus and pine!

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Half-close your eyes, your arms upon your breast;

Banish for ever every interest!

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The cradling breeze shall woo us, soft and sweet,

Ruffling the waves of velvet at your feet

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When solemn night of swart oaks shall prevail.

Voice our despair, musical nightingale!

 

Index | Bernard Shaw on Self Effacement | Aleister Crowley: Mystic and Mountain Climber | Vampire Women | The Hokku—a New Verse Form | A Hindu at the Polo Grounds | Colloque Sentimental | With Muted Strings | The Prize Winners of the Hokku Contest | Three Little Prose Poems | The Hokku Winners | Six Little Poems in Prose | The Nonsense About Vers Libre | Three Great Hoaxes of the War | Anna of Havana | To a Brunette | Ratan Devi: Indian Singer | On the Management of Blondes | The Origin of the Game of Pirate Bridge | What’s Wrong with the Movies?