Tears of gold
Jacques Guillaume de Sauville de la Presle
Tears hanging from the flowers,
Tears of springs lost
In the mossy hollows of the rocks;
Autumnal tears spread,
Painful tears of horns heard
In the great woods.
Tears of Latin bells,
Carmelites, Feuillantines...
Voices of belfries in fervour;
Tears, silvery songs
In the Florentine bowls
At the bottom of the dreamy garden;
Tears of starry nights,
Tears of veiled flutes
In the blue of the sleepy park;
Beaded tears of long eyelashes,
Tears of a mistress flowing
As far as the soul of the lover;
Drops of ecstasy, deliciously grief-stricken,
Let nights fall! Let flowers fall! Let eyes fall!
And you, my love, may you be the sweet harmonious flood,
Who, rich from the dried-up treasure of empty urns,
Drives a great sad dream to the seas of languid evenings.