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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;
Melt we our souls, hearts, senses in this shrine,
Vague languor of arbutus and pine!
Half-close your eyes, your arms upon your breast;
Banish for ever every interest!
The cradling breeze shall woo us, soft and sweet,
Ruffling the waves of velvet at your feet
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?
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