Little Air II

Indomitably had to
As my hopes it launch
Burst on high perdue
With fury and silence,

Voice foreign to the copse
Or by no echo twice
The bird one never hears at all
Another time in life.

The haggard musician,
That expires in doubt
If from my breast not its
Gushed the worse sob out.

Flittered will it all
Stay on some trail!

 

 Stéphane Mallarmé