THE rose-pink Earth in April wears The flush of youth; A maiden still, she hardly dares To meet Spring’s troth! When June comes, paler grows her brow In passion’s pain. She hides with sunburnt Summer now Among the grain. In August’s mad bacchante mood She bares her breast To Autumn, rolling in the blood Of… Read More EARTH AND THE SEASONS by Théophile Gautier

IT is a marsh, whose sleepy water Lies stagnant, covered with a mantle Of lily-pads and rushes; And at the least noise, the croaking frogs Dive under their light-green cover. To it flies the black and gray snipe When, on a frosty November morning, The bleak north wind blows; Often, from the dark clouds above,… Read More THE MARSH by Théophile Gautier

LIGHTLY in the azure air Soars a cloud, emerging free Like a virgin from the fair Blue sea; Or an Aphrodite sweet, Floating upright and impearled Jn the shell, about its feet Foam-curled. Undulating overhead, How its changing body glows! On its shoulder dawn hath spread A rose. Marble, snow, blend amorously In that form… Read More THE CLOUD – Théophile Gautier

Yes; when the ways oppose — When the hard means rebel, Fairer the work out-grows,— More potent far the spell. O Poet, then, forbear The loosely-sandalled verse, Choose rather thou to wear The buskin —strait and terse; Leave to the tiro’s hand The limp and shapeless style; See that thy form demand The labour of… Read More ARS VICTRIX – Théophile Gautier

WE are in love’s land to-day; Where shall we go? Love, shall we start or stay, Or sail or row? There’s many a wind and way, And never a May but May; We are in love’s hand to-day; Where shall we go? Our land-wind is the breath Of sorrows kiss’d to death And joys that… Read More Love At Sea – Gautier Théophile

With elbow buried in the downy pillow I’ve lain and read, All through the night, a volume strangely written In tongues long dead. For at my bedside lie no dainty slippers; And, save my own, Under the paling lamp I hear no breathing :— I am alone! But there are yellow bruises on my body… Read More THE YELLOW STAINS – Gautier Théophile

A YOUNG chimera at my goblet’s brim Gave sweetest kiss amid the orgy’s spell. Emerald her eyes, and to her haunches slim The golden torrent of her tresses fell. Her shoulders fluttering pinions did bedeck. I sprang upon her back, for travel fain, And toward me bending firm her lovely neck, I plunged my tightening… Read More THE CHIMERA – Gautier Théophile