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version française
A M. de V.
Your body is lighter than
air, like the calyx of a mimosa pudica,
I hear the captive voice of time in your beloved voice
And I remember the endless avenue where tenderness flew down
To lay its hands over our retiring eyes!
I loved you that wondrous
year as it ran between the banks
Of our kisses burning with eternal fire,
I love you still, oh my love, you are an unfinished poem,
A scent that lingers in the teeming dark places
Of my adolescence filled
with light!
Was it really me, oh my love, this charming pageboy,
White knight, dizzying hero
Who faced down death with
eyes as intense as the sun!
How everything appears immortal when love's first murmur
has been engraved on innocent lips!
translated from the French of Athanase Vantchev de Thracy by Norton Hodges,
14.04.04.
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