My Former Life

I can remember a country of long, high colonnades

Which mirrored in their pale marble the prismatic light

Cast from the bright sea billows in a thousand shades,

And which resembled a cave of fluted basalt by night.

The ocean, strewn with sliding images of the sky,

Would mingle in a mysterious and solemn way,

Under the wild brief sunsets, its tremendous cry

With the reflected colors of the ruined day.

There did I dwell in quiet luxury apart,

Amid the slowly changing hues of clouds and waves;

And there I was attended by two naked slaves

Who sometimes fanned me with great fronds on either side,

And whose sole task was to let sink into my heart

The dolorous and beautiful secret of which I died.