At sunup...

At sunup, before the heat to follow,

The tenderness of all the color

Hardly strewn upon the world,

Astonishes and wounds dolor.

O Night, which I’ve completely suffered,

Suffer this smile heavenly

And this gigantic flower offered

On a day’s brow graciously.

Great offering of so many roses,

Can ill bear you and not burn,

See unto their promises

In a blush all things return?

I’ve seen so many feigning dreams

In my sleepless tenebræ

That among the lies I deem

Even sunlight’s mightful ray,

And I doubt if I receive

In some disgust, desire much,

This young day upon the leaves

Which the virgin gold may clutch.

Paul Valéry