The Fountain

My poor mistress! your lovely eyes Are tired, leave them closed and keep For long the nonchalant pose In which pleasure surprised you. In the court the bubbling fountain That's never silent night or day Sweetly sustains the ecstasy Into which love plunged me tonight. The sheaf unfolds into Countless flowers In which joyful Phoebe Puts her colors: It drops like a shower Of heavy tears. Thus your soul which is set ablaze By the burning flash of pleasure Springs heavenward, fearless and swift, Toward the boundless, enchanted skies. And then it overflows, dying In a wave of languid sadness That by an invisible slope Descends to the depths of my heart. The sheaf unfolds into Countless flowers In which joyful Phoebe Puts her colors: It drops like a shower Of heavy tears. Oh you whom the night makes so fair, How sweet, bending over your breast, To listen to the endless plaint Of the sobbing of the fountains! Moon, singing water, blessed night, Trees that quiver round about us, Your innocent melancholy Is the mirror of my love. The sheaf unfolds into Countless flowers In which joyful Phoebe Puts her colors: It drops like a shower Of heavy tears. Translated by - William Aggeler The Fountain Thine eyes are heavy. Let them close. Lie without opening them. Lie Still in the lovely thoughtless pose Where pleasure found thee. The long cry Of moonlit waters that caress The evening, languorous as thou art, Lives on: So does the tenderness Love has awakened in my heart. The fountain leaps and flowers In many roses, Whereon the moonlight flares. Their crystal petals, falling, Falling for ever, Are changèd to bright tears. Even thus thy spirit, briefly ht With the strange lightnings of desire, Once more into the infinite Flings up its pure forgetful fire, As if the dusty earth to flee - And blossoms there, and breaks apart, And falls, and flows invisibly Into the deep night of my heart. The fountain leaps and flowers In many roses, Whereon the moonlight flares. Their crystal petals, falling, Falling for ever, Are changèd to bright tears. O thou, so fair and so forlorn, How sweet, my lips upon thy breast, To hear within its marble urn The water sobbing without rest. O moon, loud water, lovely night, O leaves where the soft winds upstart, O wild and melancholy light, Ye are the image of my heart. The fountain leaps and flowers In many roses, Whereon the moonlight flares. Their crystal petals, falling, Falling for ever, Are changèd to bright tears. Translated by - George Dillon The Fountain My darling of a sweetheart, close, For a long time, your great, tired eyes, Keeping them in that languid pose Where pleasure took them by surprise. Out in the court the fountain chatters And does not cease by day or night. The swoon of ecstasy it flatters In which love plunges me tonight. Its sheaf uprears A myriad flowers, While Phoebe sheers Through pearl-flushed hours, To rain down tears In glittering showers. So does your flashing soul ignite In lightnings of voluptuous bliss And rushes reckless up the height As though the enchanted sky to kiss; Then it relaxes, grows more fine, And in sad languor falls apart Down an invisible incline Into the deep well of my heart. Its sheaf uprears A myriad flowers, While Phoebe sheers Through pearl-flushed hours, To rain down tears In glittering showers. O you whom night so beautifies How sweet unto your breast to bend And hear the water as it sighs Into the ponds without an end Moon, singing water, blessed night And trees that tremble up above - Your melancholy charms my sprite And is the mirror of my love. Its sheaf uprears A myriad flowers, While Phoebe sheers Through pearl-flushed hours, To rain down tears In glittering showers. Translated by - Roy Campbell