THE GENESIS OF BUTTERFLIES
by: Victor Hugo (1802-1885)
- HE dawn
is smiling on the dew that covers
- The tearful roses; lo, the little lovers
- That kiss the buds, and all the flutterings
- In jasmine bloom, and privet, of white wings,
- That go and come, and fly, and peep and hide,
- With muffled music, murmured far and wide.
- Ah, the Spring time, when we think of all the lays
- That dreamy lovers send to dreamy mays,
- Of the fond hearts within a billet bound,
- Of all the soft silk paper that pens wound,
- The messages of love that mortals write
- Filled with intoxication of delight,
- Written in April and before the May time
- Shredded and flown, playthings for the wind's playtime,
- We dream that all white butterflies above,
- Who seek through clouds or waters souls to love,
- And leave their lady mistress in despair,
- To flit to flowers, as kinder and more fair,
- Are but torn love-letters, that through the skies
- Flutter, and float, and change to butterflies.
This English translation of "The
Genesis of Butterflies" was composed by Andrew Lang (1844-1912). |
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