Here am I back from the other dubious bank
where Orpheus's abandonned lyre laments
the wind down there fills my veins dizzy drunk
and my redoubled hangover numbs my senses.
After having used up my human resemblance
mauve moons of Hell have gotten me in a spin
My eyes? two diamonds of winter or two fountains
which stare at an immutable sun and remain frozen.
Similar tree springing deep roots, blind to murmurs
shakes in its sleep nocturnal verdures
where defunct suns ripen forgotten:
Very same tree that by day the light violates
bereft of foliage, bereft of birds, clawing at clouds
curses summer with its huge arms anathème.
(from the collection Sodome, O.C. t. I, p.253)
Note: Sonnet's original rhyme scheme:
abab, abab ccb, ccb
© T. Wignesan - Paris, October 6,2014
T (no first name) Wignesan
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/orphic-consecration-translation-of-pierre-emmanuel-s-d-dicade-d-orph-e-by-t-wignesan/
