I <br /> <br />Any solitude <br />Without a swan or quai <br />Mirrors its disuse <br />In the look I abdicate <br /> <br />Here from that pride’s excess <br />Too high to enfold <br />In which many a sky paints itself <br />With the twilight’s gold <br /> <br />But languorously flows beside <br />Like white linen laid aside <br />Such fleeting birds as dive <br />Exultantly at my side <br /> <br />Into the wave made you <br />Your exultation nude. <br /> <br />II <br /> <br /> <br />Unconquerably there must <br />As my hope hurls itself free <br />Burst on high and lost <br />In silence and in fury <br /> <br />A voice alien to the wood <br />Or followed by no echo, <br />The bird one never could <br />Hear again in life below. <br /> <br />The wild musician, <br />The one that in doubt expires <br />If not from his breast but mine <br />Has spurted the sob more dire <br /> <br />Utterly torn apart will he <br />Lie on some path beneath?<br /><br />Stéphane Mallarmé<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/little-air/
