I sing the pale ballades of eld, <br />Of kisses lost without reward, <br />And lo, on love's luxurious sward, <br />The nuptials of the sick are held. <br /> <br />Voices thro' my slumber sound: <br />Listlessly they gather near. <br />Lilies bloom in closes where <br />Star nor sun hath blessed the ground. <br /> <br />And lo, these ghosts of old desire, <br />These lagging throbs of impulse crost, <br />Are paupers in a palace lost, <br />Sick tapers in the auroral fire. <br /> <br />When shall the moon my vision bathe, <br />That seeks to plumb the eternal streams <br />Of darkness, and about my dreams <br />Her slow cerulean raiment swathe?<br /><br />Maurice Polydore-Marie-Bernard Maeterlinck<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/listlessness/
