tomb of Edgar Poe

d’après Mallarmé

such as to Himself at last eternity him changes

the Poet with a naked sword hones

his age distressed at never having known

how death triumphed in that voice’s strangeness

they like a vile hydra-jump at hearing the angel

endow with purer meaning the tribe’s lexicon

proclaimed quite loudly that the spell was drunken down

in the flood without all honor of some black mélange

earth and sky all hostile oh the grief

if our idea withal carve never bas-relief

to dazzle on the grave of Poe adorned

calm block fallen here from wreckage quite obscure

let this granite show at least forever scorned

bare black flights of Blasphemy in the future