Chapter XXII: Colloque Sentimental

In the old park, solitary and vast,
Over the frozen ground two forms once passed.

Their lips were languid and their eyes were dead,
And hardly could be heard the words they said.

In the old park, solitary and vast,
Two ghosts once met to summon up the past.

--Do you remember our old ecstasy?
--Why would you bring it back again to me?

--Do you still dream as you dreamed long ago?
Does your heart beat to my heart's beating?
--No.

--Ah, those old days, what joys have those days seen
When your lips met my lips!--It may have been.

--How blue the sky was, and our hope how light!
--Hope has flown helpless back into the night.

They walked through weeds withered and grasses dead,
And only the night heard the words they said.

_From Poèmes Saturniens_

I. SOLEILS COUCHANTS

Pale dawn delicately
Over earth has spun
The sad melancholy
Of the setting sun.
Sad melancholy
Brings oblivion
In sad songs to me
With the setting sun.
And the strangest dreams,
Dreams like suns that set
On the banks of the streams,
Ghost and glory met,
To my sense it seems,
Pass, and without let,
Like great suns that set
On the banks of streams.

II. CHANSON D'AUTOMNE

When a sighing begins
In the violins
Of the autumn-song,
My heart is drowned
In the slow sound
Languorous and long.

Pale as with pain,
Breath fails me when
The hour tolls deep.
My thoughts recover
The days that are over,
And I weep.

And I go

Where the winds know,
Broken and brief,
To and fro,
As the winds blow
A dead leaf.