issue 27 > poetry > verlaine

There fall from Fall
The sobbing call
        Of violins
Which hurt my heart
With heavy, sharp
        Cold pain.

Then bells sound
The hour, pound
        My brain,
Stark memory
Of time gone by.
        I weep again,

Melt, I spin
Away on winds
        That sweep me
Here, there,
And everywhere,
        Like leaves.






Other translations by Burton Raffel:

Once I had a Fatherland
The White Moon
Tears Fall in my Heart