Paul Verlaine (1844.1896)
Signed autograph poem – Elegies X1
One octavo page on paper from the Public Assistance.
Slnd (Paris. 1892).
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Bah! (We're not talking to you, madam),
After all, let's just let ourselves be led by the blade.
She is gentle, she is strong, she smells of the sea
His breath is salty with a bitter taste
She is round and nervous, she sings, she growls,
And it's a kind vehicle to the world,
Its transparency also forms a living mirror
Reflecting the sky and its ever-changing appearance.
The breeze caresses her and the north wind whips her.
Hope, regret, or wish, the seagull's wing
It flies around and, grey at night, is pink by day.
Like certainty or doubt in love…
Let her take us for a walk (nothing, my dear,
(As far as you are concerned) while it is still light
And clear and measured in a just ebb.
Let us not wait, great gods! Let it soon be no more
Time, until, under the sudden hurricane, it bursts
Furious and wicked and troubled under Hecate
Fateful and mocking in the twisted clouds:
Like a woman who is frankly entirely in the wrong,
Whoever revolts and becomes worse than nature,
A storm of anger and a whirlwind of insults!
Ah! Woe to him caught in that dreadful pot
In black
(Well, my dear! How charming this afternoon was!)
Paul Verlaine.
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In 1892, Verlaine began work on a new collection, Élégies , composed of a series of twelve poems in alexandrines, recounting his epic love affair with Philomène Boudin.
The collection was published by Léon Vanier in 1893.