The moon was grieving. Seraphim in tears,
Musing in the calm of vaporous flowers,
Were drawing, bow in hand, from sad violas
Sobbing glissandos over blue corollas.
- It was the blessèd day of your first kiss.
My reverie, enraptured by the abyss,
Imbibed its wisdom from the sad perfume
Which even the dreams we gather in full bloom
Distill within the heart that gathers them.
My eyes on the worn stones, I wandered then,
When suddenly you happened to appear,
Laughing, with evening sunlight in your hair;
And I thought I saw the fairy with the cap
Of light, who passed before my infant sleep,
Opening her hands to scatter through the years
Snowy bouquets of richly scented stars.
- Stéphane Mallarmé