by: Pierre Louÿs (1870-1925)
- HE has gone
out, she is far from me, but I see her, for all things in the
room, all pertain to her, and I, like all the rest.
- This bed still warm, over which I let my lips wander, is
disordered with the imprint of her form. Upon this soft cushion
has lain her little head enveloped in its wealth of hair.
- This basin is that in which she hath bathed; this comb has
penetrated the knots of her tangled locks. These slippers beg
for her naked feet. These pockets of gauze contained her breasts.
- But what I dare not touch, is the mirror in which she gazed
upon her hot bruises, and where perhaps remains still the reflection
of her moist lips.
TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH BY:
HORACE M. BROWN
POEMS BY PIERRE LOUYS
"Absence" is reprinted
from Poetica Erotica. Ed. T.R. Smith. New York: Crown