# Paul Verlaine

Paul-Marie Verlaine (March 30 1844 – January 8 1896) was a French Symbolist poet. He is often characterized as a poète maudit and an example of fin-de-siècle decadence in literature.

## Quotes

    Translations and page-numbers are from Martin Sorrell (trans.) Selected Poems (Oxford University Press, 1999)
* Les sanglots longs Des violons De l'automne Blessent mon cœur D'une langueur Monotone.
** The long sobs of The violins Of autumn Lay waste my heart With monotones Of boredom.
** "Chanson d'automne", line 1, from Poèmes saturniens (1866); Sorrell p. 24
* Et je m'en vais Au vent mauvais Qui m'emporte Deçà, delà, Pareil à la Feuille morte.
** And so I leave On cruel winds Squalling And gusting me Like a dead leaf Falling.
** "Chanson d'automne", line 13, from Poèmes saturniens (1866); Sorrell p. 27
* La lune blanche Luit dans les bois; De chaque branche Part une voix Sous la ramée.
** White moon gleaming Among trees, From every branch Sound rising into Canopies.
** "La lune blanche", line 1, from La Bonne Chanson (1872); Sorrell p. 57
* Il pleure dans mon cœur Comme il pleut sur la ville. Quelle est cette langueur Qui pénètre mon cœur?
** Falling tears in my heart, Falling rain on the town. Why this long ache, A knife in my heart.
** "Il pleur dans mon cœur" line 1, from Romances sans paroles (1874); Sorrell p. 69
* C'est bien la pire peine De ne savoir pourquoi Sans amour et sans haine Mon cœur a tant de peine!
** By far the worst pain Is not to understand Why without love or hate My heart's full of pain.
** "Il pleur dans mon cœur" line 13, from Romances sans paroles (1874); Sorrell p. 71
* Qu'as-tu fait, ô toi que voilà Pleurant sans cesse, Dis, qu'as-tu fait, toi que voilà De ta jeunesse?
** What have you done, you standing there In floods of tears? Tell me what you have done With your young life?
** "Le ciel est, par-dessus le toit", line 13, from Sagesse (1880); Sorrell p. 111

### "Art poétique", from Jadis et naguère (1884)

* De la musique avant toute chose, Et pour cela préfère l'Impair Plus vague et plus soluble dans l'air Sans rien en lui qui pèse ou qui pose. Il faut aussi que tu n'ailles point Choisir tes mots sans quelque méprise: Rien de plus cher que la chanson grise Où l'Indécis au Précis se joint.
** Let's hear the music first and foremost, And that means no more one-two-one-twos… Something more vague instead, something lighter Dissolving in air, weightless as air. When you choose your words, no need to search In strict dictionaries for pinpoint Definitions. Better the subtle And heady Songs of Imprecision.
** Line 1; Sorrell p. 123
* Pas la Couleur, rien que la nuance!
** Colour's forbidden, only Nuance!
** Line 14; Sorrell p. 125
* Prends l'éloquence et tords-lui son cou! Tu feras bien, en train d'énergie, Du rendre un peu la Rime assagie. Si l'on n’y veille, elle ira jusqu’où? Ô qui dira les torts de la Rime! Quel enfant sourd ou quel nègre fou Nous a forgé ce bijou d'un sou Qui sonne creux et faux sous la lime?
** Grip eloquence by the throat and squeeze It to death. And while you're about it You might corral that runaway, Rhyme, Or you'll get Rhyme Without End, Amen. Who will denounce that criminal, Rhyme? Tone-deaf children or crazed foreigners No doubt fashioned its paste jewellery, Tinplate on top, hollow underneath.
** Line 21; Sorrell p. 125
* Que ton vers soit la bonne aventure Éparse au vent crispé du matin Qui va fleurant la menthe et le thym… Et tout le reste est littérature.
** You must let your poems ride their luck On the back of the sharp morning air Touched with the fragrance of mint and thyme… And everything else is LIT-RIT-CHER.
** Line 33, Sorrell p. 125

## Quotes about Verlaine

* Anna Margolin was greatly influenced by Baudelaire, Verlaine, and Rimbaud; among the Germans, by Else Lasker-Schüler and Rainer Maria Rilke; and among the Yiddish poets, by Itsik Manger and Avrom Sutzkever.
** Drunk from the Bitter Truth: The Poems of Anna Margolin by Shirley Kumove (2005)
* That time, that excitement, I will always remember,/like a song without words, like a poem by Verlaine.
** Anna Margolin "The Song of a Girl" poem in Drunk from the Bitter Truth, translated from Yiddish
* Two of the most perfect lives I have come across in my own experience are the lives of Verlaine and of Prince Kropotkin: both of them men who have passed years in prison: the first, the one Christian poet since Dante; the other, a man with a soul of that beautiful white Christ which seems coming out of Russia.
** Oscar Wilde, in De Profundis (1897)