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