I am the shadowy - the widowed - sadly mute, <br />At ruined tower still the Prince of Aquitaine: <br />My single star is dead - my constellated lute <br />Now bears the sable sun of melancholy pain. <br /> <br />In darkness in my grave, you who once could cheer, <br />Return me Posilipo and the Italian sea, <br />The flower which was to my tormented heart so dear, <br />The trellis where the rose and vine entwined could be. <br /> <br />Am I Amor or Phoebus?…Lusignan or Biron? <br />My forehead is still red from that kiss by the queen; <br />That grotto where the siren swims, I've had my dream… <br /> <br />Two times the conquerer I've crossed the Acheron, <br />And on the lyre of Orpheus, changing from key to key, <br />I've sung both saintly sighs and sung the fairy's lay.<br /><br />Gerard de Nerval<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/el-desdichado-2/
