Paul-Marie Verlaine (March 30, 1844 – January 8, 1896) was a French poet associated with the Symbolist movement.
Verlaine is considered one of the greatest representatives of the fin de siècle in international and French poetry.
It weeps in my heart
As it rains on the town.
What is this dull smart
Possessing my heart?
Soft sound of the rain
On the ground and the roofs!
To a heart in pain,
O the song of the rain!
It weeps without cause
In my heart-sick heart.
In her faith, what? no flaws?
This grief has no cause.
‘Tis sure the worst woe
To know not wherefore
My heart suffers so
Without joy or woe.
MY FAMILIAR DREAM
I often have this dream, strange, penetrating,
Of a woman, unknown, whom I love, who loves me,
And who’s never, each time, the same exactly,
Nor, exactly, different: and knows me, is loving.
Oh how she knows me, and my heart, growing
Clear for her alone, is no longer a problem,
For her alone: she alone understands, then,
How to cool the sweat of my brow with her weeping.
Is she dark, blonde, or auburn? – I’ve no idea.
Her name? I remember it’s vibrant and dear,
As those of the loved that life has exiled.
Her eyes are the same as a statue’s eyes,
And in her voice, distant, serious, mild,
The tone of dear voices, those that have died.