one trick pony
Such poignancy, it's almost unbearable.

Thank you for this one.
2024-07-29

IB M
The beauty of Verlaine's writings is the French he employs to express himself, so a translation completely annuls the beauty, in my view... and this translation in particular is very poor, too. But if you don't know French, it wouldn't be obvious, of course... so not a criticism, just saying.

Here's the original and a second translated version which is a tad bit better, but still not quite as beautiful as the French version...

Original

Les sanglots longs
Des violons
De l’automne
Blessent mon coeur
D’une langueur
Monotone.

Tout suffocant
Et blême, quand
Sonne l’heure,
Je me souviens
Des jours anciens
Et je pleure;

Et je m’en vais
Au vent mauvais
Qui m’emporte
Deçà, delà,
Pareil à la
Feuille morte.

Autumn Song

translated by Arthur Symons

When a sighing begins
In the violins
Of the autumn-song,
My heart is drowned
In the slow sound
Languorous and long

Pale as with pain,
Breath fails me when
The hours toll deep.
My thoughts recover
The days that are over,
And I weep.

And I go
Where the winds know,
Broken and brief,
To and fro,
As the winds blow
A dead leaf.
2024-07-29

Sameen
Ahh Verlaine. One of poetry's greatest failures. Truly remarkable poem. Perhaps his best. Perhaps.
2024-07-29