Then will the taintless stars begin
To close tired eyes; a-crawl among
Your las t rema ins, spider will spi n
Her web, and viper spawn her young.
Year out, year in , over your head
Entombed, will sound the doleful, dread
Howl of the wolves; screech of the foul,
RattI eboned wi tches; and the sprees
Of hoary gnybeard debauchees,
And schemes of black-souled thugs a-prowl.
The Lone Man's Wine
The courtesan's especial glance- her air
That glides our way, as when the moon, a-shiver,
Sends down her beam over the lake, a-quiver,
To bathe therein her beauty devil-may-care;
A gambler's last few COillS, clutched in his hand;
A kiss from Adeline, all skin and bones;
A wheedling tune, persistent, like the moans
And wails of human woes in distant land;
None of all that, 0 bottle deep, is worth
The pungent balms your belly's fertile girth
Holds for the pious poet's thirsting heart;
You pour out hope for us, and life, and youth,
-And pride, th:lt boon that gilds the wretch uncouth,
And sets us all, like conquering Cads, apart!
Translated from the French
by
Norman Shapiro
