Translation:Les Épaves/The Fountain
Your beautiful eyes are tired, my poor lover.
Do not open them, yet
Stay a while in that nonchalant pose
In which pleasure took you by surprise.
In the courtyard, the fountain chatters
And is never quiet, neither by night nor day;
It sweetly nourishes the ecstasy
That love has pushed me into tonight.
The bouquet bloomed
Into a thousand flowers,
Where joyful Phoebe
Displayed her colours,
Falling like a rain
Of heavy tears.
And so your fiery soul
Becomes a burning light of desire
Rapidly and passionately rising
Towards the vast enchanted heavens;
Then it relaxes and dies out,
Like a sad flow of lethargy
Running down an invisible incline
Into the depths of my heart.
The bouquet bloomed
Into a thousand flowers,
Where joyful Phoebe
Displayed her colours,
Falling like a rain
Of heavy tears.
Oh you whom the night makes so beautiful,
How sweet it is to lean across your breast
And listen to the eternal sighs
And sobs of the fountain.
Moon, musical water, blessed night,
Trees that shiver around us,
You purest melancholy
Is the mirror of my love.
The bouquet bloomed
Into a thousand flowers,
Where joyful Phoebe
Displayed her colours,
Falling like a rain
Of heavy tears.