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ROMANCE

by Arthur Rimbaud

I
Nobody's serious when they're seventeen.
On a nice night, the hell with beer and lemonade
And the cafe and the noisy atmosphere!
You walk beneath the linden trees on the promenade.

The lindens smell lovely on a night in June!
The air is so sweet that your eyelids close.
The breeze is full of sounds - they come from the town
And the scent of beer, and the vine, and the rose...

II
You look up and see a little scrap of sky,
Dark blue and far off in the night,
Stuck with a lopsided star that drifts by
With little shivers, very small and white...

A night in June! Seventeen! Getting drunk is fun.
Sap like champagne knocks your head awry...
Your mind drifts; a kiss rises to your lips
And flutters like a little butterfly...

IV
(...)
That night...you go back to the cafe, to the noisy
atmosphere;
You sit and order beer, or lemonade...
Nobody's serious when they're seventeen,
And there are linden trees on the promenade.

Transl. by Paul Schmidt (1975)

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• 01.12.2016. ***