To Clymène

Mystic barcarolles,

Songs without words,

My darling, because your eyes,

The color of the heavens,

Because your voice, strange

Vision that upsets

And troubles the horizon

Of my reason.

Because the wonderful aroma

Of your cygnet-like pallor.

And because the distinctness

Of your fragrance.

Ah! Because your entire existence,

Like music that pervades all,

Nimbuses of former angels,

Tones and perfumes.

Has, in wondrous cadences,

Attracted into a connection

My subtle heart:

Let it be praised! Amen.