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L'oiseau cruel... The cruel bird
THE CRUEL BIRD ...
THE cruel bird keeps me wakeful all the night With a sharp twinge of delight in which I hear Its voice addressing with a rage so tender A sky ablaze with stars until the morning.
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You pierce the soul and fix the destiny Of a lost glance which may not be recovered; All of you that was you is changed to ashes, O voice too high, instinct of ecstasy...
The shadowy dawn is tracing out the face Of a fine day to me already nothing: One day the more is but an empty landscape,
What is another day without your face? No!... Towards the night my soul returning Declines the coming dawn and the youthful day.
