To Louise d’Or, Queen

The old father trembling shook the universe.

Isis, the mother at last arose on her couch,

Gave a gesture of hate to her husband farouche,

And in her green eyes shone forth ancient ardors.

“Look at him!” she said, “he sleeps, old pervert,

From his mouth hath passed all this world’s ice.

Beware his foot, put out his squinting eye,

He’s the king of volcanoes and the god of winters!

The eagle’s gone by: Napoleon calls to me;

I’ve donned for him the robe of Cybele,

He’s my husband Hermes and my brother Osiris...”

The Goddess was gone away on her gilded conch;

The sea sent back to us her adored image,

And the skies were beaming under the scarf of Isis!

Gérard de Nerval