Nous aurons des lits pleins d'odeurs légères, des divans profonds comme des tombeaux, et d'étranges fleurs sur des étagères, écloses pour nous des cieux plus beaux.
Usant à l'envi leurs chaleurs dernières, nos deux coeurs seront deux vastes flambeaux, qui réfléchiront leurs doubles lumières dans nos deux esprits, ces miroirs jumeaux.
Une soir fait de rose et de bleu mystique, nous échangerons un éclair unique, comme un long sanglot, tout chargé d'adieux;
et plus tard un Ange, entr'ouvrant les portes, viendra ranimer, fidèle et joyeux, les miroirs ternis et les flammes mortes.
Avremo letti pieni d'odori leggeri, divani profondi come avelli e strani fiori sulle mensole, schiusi per noi soto cieli più belli.
Consumando a gara i loro estremi ardori, i nostri due cuori saranno due grandi torce che rifletteranno i loro duplici splendori nelle due nostre anime, questi specchi gemelli.
In una sera fatta di rosa e di mistico azzurro ci scambieremo un unico lampo come un lungo singhiozzo, tutto carico d'addii;
e più tardi un angelo, aprendo le porte, verrà a rianimare, fedele e giocoso, gli offuscati specchi e le fiamme morte.
It would have starved a Gnat - To live so small as I - And yet, I was a living child - With Food's necessity Upon me - like a Claw - I could no more remove Than I could modify a Leech - Or make a Dragon - move -
Not like the Gnat - had I - The privilege to fly And seek a Dinner for myself - How mightier He - than I!
Nor like Himself - the Art Upon the Window Pane To gad my little Being out - And not begin - again -
I see thee better - in the Dark - I do not need a Light - The Love of Thee - a Prism be - Excelling Violet - I see thee better for the Years That pile themselves - between - The Miner's Lamp - sufficient be - To nullify the Mine -
And in the Grave - I see Thee best - It's little Panels be Aglow - All ruddy - with the Light I held so high, for Thee -
What need of Day - To Those whose Dark - hath so - surpassing Sun - It deem it be - Continually - At the Meridian?
You'll find - it when you try to die - The Easier to let go - For recollecting such as went - You could not spare - you know. And though their places somewhat filled - As did their Marble names With Moss - they never grew so full - You chose the newer names -
And when this World - sets further back - As Dying - say it does - The former love - distincter grows - And supersedes the fresh -
And Thought of them - so fair invites - It looks too tawdry Grace To stay behind - with just the Toys We bought - to ease their place -
Years - had been - from Home - And now - before the Door - I dared not open - lest a face I never saw before Stare vacant into mine - And ask my Business there - My Business - just a Life I left - Was such - still dwelling there?
I fumbled at my nerve - I scanned the Windows o'er - The Silence - like an Ocean rolled - And broke against my Ear -
I laughed a Wooden laugh - That I - could fear a Door - Who Danger - and the Dead - had faced - But never shook - before -
I fitted to the Latch - My Hand - With trembling Care Lest back the Awful Door should spring - And leave me - in the Floor -
I moved my fingers off, as cautiously as Glass - And held my Ears - and like a Thief Stole - gasping - from the House -
Animula vagula blandula, Hospes comesque corporis Quae nunc abibis in loca Pallidula, rigida, nudula, Nec, ut soles, dabis iocos...
Piccola anima smarrita e soave, compagna e ospite del corpo, ora ti appresti a scendere in luoghi incolori, ardui e spogli, ove non avrai più gli svaghi consueti...
Afraid! Of whom am I afraid? Not Death - for who is He? The Porter of my Father's Lodge As much abasheth me! Of Life? 'Twere odd I fear a thing That comprehendeth me In one or two existences - Just as the case may be -
Of Resurrection? Is the East Afraid to trust the Morn With her fastidious forehead? As soon impeach my Crown.
Of nearness to her sundered Things The Soul has special times - When Dimness - looks the Oddity - Distinctness - easy - seems - The Shapes we buried, dwell about, Familiar, in the Rooms - Untarnished by the Sepulchre, The Mouldering Playmate comes -
In just the Jacket that he wore - Long buttoned in the Mold Since we - old mornings, Children - played - Divided - by a world -
The Grave yields back her Robberies - The Years, our pilfered Things - Bright Knots of Apparitions Salute us, with their wings -
As we - it were - that perished - Themself - had just remained till we rejoin them - And 'twas they, and not ourself That mourned.
The Trees like Tassels - hit - and swung - There seemed to rise a Tune From Miniature Creatures Accompanying the Sun - Far Psalteries of Summer - Enamoring the Ear They never yet did satisfy - Remotest - when most fair
The Sun shone whole at intervals - Then Half - then utter hid - As if Himself were optional And had Estates of Cloud
Sufficient to enfold Him Eternally from view - Except it were a whim of His To let the Orchards grow -
A Bird sat careless on the fence - One gossipped in the Lane On silver matters charmed a Snake Just winding round a Stone -
Bright Flowers slit a Calyx And soared upon a Stem Like Hindered Flags - Sweet hoisted - With Spices - in the Hem -
'Twas more - I cannot mention - How mean - to those that see - Vandyke's Delineation Of Nature's - Summer Day!