Translation:Les Épaves/The Fountain

Your beautiful eyes are tired, my poor lover. Do not open them, yet Stay a while in that nonchalant pose In which pleasure took you by surprise. In the courtyard, the fountain chatters And is never quiet, neither by night nor day; It sweetly nourishes the ecstasy That love has pushed me into tonight.

The bouquet bloomed Into a thousand flowers, Where joyful Phoebe Displayed her colours, Falling like a rain Of heavy tears.

And so your fiery soul Becomes a burning light of desire Rapidly and passionately rising Towards the vast enchanted heavens; Then it relaxes and dies out, Like a sad flow of lethargy Running down an invisible incline Into the depths of my heart.

The bouquet bloomed Into a thousand flowers, Where joyful Phoebe Displayed her colours, Falling like a rain Of heavy tears.

Oh you whom the night makes so beautiful, How sweet it is to lean across your breast And listen to the eternal sighs And sobs of the fountain. Moon, musical water, blessed night, Trees that shiver around us, You purest melancholy Is the mirror of my love.

The bouquet bloomed Into a thousand flowers, Where joyful Phoebe Displayed her colours, Falling like a rain Of heavy tears.