To Princess Roukine

“Capellos de Angelos”

(SPANISH TREAT)

It is one Boucher ugliness

With no powder in its hair

Madly blonde and with a flair

Venust to bring down all of us.

But I think it mine among all,

That mane so very muchly kissed,

The wee cascade of flame in mist

Which leaves me quite inflammable.

She is very much more mine,

Like a most flamboyant enclosure

All around the holy door,

The alma, the golden fleece divine!

And who that body could quite tell

If not I, its priest and cantor,

And its humble slave and master

Who for it quiet would go to hell,

Her sweet rare body, harmonized,

Smooth, white as roses white,

White as pure milk, and pink quite

As lilies under purple skies?

Lovely thighs, bosom tall,

The back, the loins, the belly, feast

For the eyes and hands in quest

And for the mouth and senses all?

Darling, let’s go see if your bed

Has still beneath its curtain ruby

The magic pillow so much moving

And mad sheets. O to your bed!

Paul Verlaine