Heure. Hour

HOUR

THE HOUR comes to me smiling become a siren: Lighting the whole of a day that I never saw: Will you dance a long time, Sunbeam, on the threshold Of the sombre and sovereign soul?

Here is THE HOUR, the thirst, the source and the siren.

For you, the past burns, HOUR for me assuaging; At last, splendour alone, O goods I have ravished, I love that which I am: my solitude is queen! My demons most secret, freely subjugated Achieve in the gold of the same air where I saw A wisdom so pure with its lucid advice: My presence is wholly serene.

Here is the HOUR, the thirst, the source and the siren,

Will you dance a long time, Sunbeam, on the threshold Of evening, before the dark eye of my sovereign night?