Midnight Poetry: “Sigh”
Sigh
(Stéphane Mallarmé)
My soul, calm sister, ascends to your brow
Where an autumn that’s scattered with russet dreams now,
And toward your angelic eye’s wandering heaven
Ascends, as in a melancholy garden
A white jet of water faithfully sighs
Toward October’s pure, pale, and compassionate skies
That mirror in pools their infinite languor
And, on dead water where anguished leaves wander
Driven by wind, furrowing a hollow,
Let the sun be drawn out in a long ray of yellow.
Where an autumn that’s scattered with russet dreams now,
And toward your angelic eye’s wandering heaven
Ascends, as in a melancholy garden
A white jet of water faithfully sighs
Toward October’s pure, pale, and compassionate skies
That mirror in pools their infinite languor
And, on dead water where anguished leaves wander
Driven by wind, furrowing a hollow,
Let the sun be drawn out in a long ray of yellow.
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(Read more of Stéphane Mallarmé’s poetry here)
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