Confusion (IX)

And yet again do I mull o’er this bliss

I used to hold close to my heart. In my

Mind’s eye I trace the contours of the breeze

That fed me life from every little sigh

You made—when you still loved me; and this kiss,

This precious gift, is now a deadened lie.

The sun has set. I see what really is:

And love is love only when lovers die.

From here I see life, through a misty steam,

Vanishing in the shadow of the past;

Love alone remains: as alone, one vast

Image stays, when we waken from a dream.

So! Life ends there, under that bubbling stream,

And I will die; I give myself at last.

Author’s note: Italicised lines above from Le Vallon by Alphonse de Lamartine, lines 33-36, trans. E. H. and A. M. Blackmore.


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