"Sunrise," by Saint- Pol Roux

Sunrise

The splendid Cheek emerges from the hawthorn muslins.

-Oh charitable full-blown, manifest so smoothly in this rosiness, shall I be to
you, during your daily round, shall I be to you by my unworthy deeds or my wise
ones, shall I be to you a caress or shall I be to you the bellows, sun, and will you
linger before my sign as charming Joshua's friend or then, savage Judas, shall I
drive back your modesty behind the immense waterlilies of the sky until it's time
to bleed on the banished seashells?

The splendid Cheek emerges from the hawthorn muslins.

Saint-Pol Roux

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Translated by Mary Ann Caws

"The Voice," by Henri de Regnier

The Voice, By Henri de Régnier


I do not wish anyone to be near my sadness—
Not even your dear step and your loved face,
Nor your indolent hand which caresses with a finger
The lazy ribbon and the closed book.

Leave me. Let my door today remain closed;
Do not open my window to the fresh wind of morning;
My heart today is miserable and sullen
And everything seems to me somber and everything seems vain.

My sadness comes from something further than myself;
It is strange to me and is not of me;
And every man, whether he sings or he laughs or he loves,
In his time hears that which speaks low to him,

And something then stirs and awakens,
Is perturbed, spreads and laments in him,
Because of this dull voice which says in his ear
That the flower of life in its fruit is ashes.

Translation by Eli Siegel