"My dear, your eyes are weary"

My dear, your eyes are weary;

Rest them a little while.

Assume the languid posture

Of pleasure mixed with guile.

Outside the talkative fountain

Continues night and day

Repeating my warm passion

In whatever it has to say.

             The sheer luminous gown

                           The fountain wears

             Where Phoebe’s very own

                           Color appears

             Falls like a summer rain

                           Or shawl of tears.


~ From "The Fountain" by Charles Baudelaire, trans. by Anthony Hecht. The complete poem is here.


Rest, Wojciech Gerson, 1895