Looking at this again, I'm not altogether happy with how sibiliant the last line is. Tennyson used to go through his verse revising out sibilance: a process he called "kicking the geese out of the boat" (he admired Pope, but thought the opening line of "Rape of the Lock", "What dire offense from amorous causes springs", one of the ugliest in English poetry). Tennyson's verse is very rarely sibilant like this.
Very nice! I love galactic lute and sable pentacle; "brow" and "elf", as masculine line-endings, maybe stand out a little from the lovely rolling-over of the other feminine-ending lines (and "elf" is hard to detatch now from Tolkien) -- but lovely work. Is it really from 1987?
yup. i had picked up a french baudelaire on portobello road, & sporadically made a stab at translating french for years afterward though no one in paris affected to be able to understand what i said.
Looking at this again, I'm not altogether happy with how sibiliant the last line is. Tennyson used to go through his verse revising out sibilance: a process he called "kicking the geese out of the boat" (he admired Pope, but thought the opening line of "Rape of the Lock", "What dire offense from amorous causes springs", one of the ugliest in English poetry). Tennyson's verse is very rarely sibilant like this.
“the Desperado (de Nerval)”
I am the bereaved, the widower, the shadowy,
the Cathar prince of the devastated citadel:
My guiding star is snuffed, my galactic lute
carries Melancholy’s sable pentacle.
You who consoled me in the dark of the sepulcher,
give me back Posilipo & the Mediterranean,
the fragrance that enchanted my sere despair,
& that arbor where the rose & grape are intimate.
am I Cupid or Apollo?….Poe or Byron?
the kiss of some dread queen still becrimsons my brow;
I have dreamed in the grotto where the siren plashes…
& twice have I crossed Acheron victorious:
practicing in turn on the lyre of Orpheus
moans of a mystic, sobs of a dying elf.
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Very nice! I love galactic lute and sable pentacle; "brow" and "elf", as masculine line-endings, maybe stand out a little from the lovely rolling-over of the other feminine-ending lines (and "elf" is hard to detatch now from Tolkien) -- but lovely work. Is it really from 1987?
yup. i had picked up a french baudelaire on portobello road, & sporadically made a stab at translating french for years afterward though no one in paris affected to be able to understand what i said.
Love this, great work!
Thanks!