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Sur les Lagunes. Lamento.
poetry [ ]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
by [Théophile_Gautier ]

2006-03-14  | [This text should be read in romana]    |  Submited by Ionescu Bogdan



My dear love is dead:
I will cry forever;
Into the grave she carries
My soul and my love.
To heaven, without waiting for me
She's returned;
The angel that carried her
Did not want to take me.
How bitter is my fate!
Ah! loveless, to set out on the sea!

The white creature
Is lying in her coffin.
How all of Nature
Seems to me in mourning:
The forsaken dove
Cries and dreams of the absent one;
My soul cries and feels
Itself torn asunder.
How bitter is my fate!
Ah! loveless, to set out on the sea!

Over me the immense night
Stretches like a shroud.
I sing my romance
That heaven alone hears.
Oh, how she was beautiful,
And how I loved her!
I shall never love
Another woman so much as she.
How bitter is my fate!
Ah! loveless, to set out on the sea.

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