Scolies – Edgar Allan Poe

Even as eternity his soul reclaimed,
The poet’s song ascended in a strain
So pure, the astonished age that had defamed,
Saw death transformed in that divine refrain.

While writhing coils of hydra-headed wrong,
Listening, and wondering at that heavenly song,
Deemed they had drunk of some foul mixture brewed
In Circe’s maddening cup, with sorcery imbued.

Alas ! if from an alien to his clime,
No bas-relief may grace thy front sublime,
Stern block, in some obscure disaster hurled
From the rent heart of a primeval world,

Through storied centuries thou shalt proudly stand
In the memorial city of his land,
A silent monitor, austere and gray,
To warn the clamorous brood of harpies from their prey.
Into himself resolved by Death’s great change,
The poet rouses with his clear, free one,
His century too frightened to have known
That Death itself would praise in voice so strange.

’Twas like some hydra, who an Angel heard
Breathe strains too pure for tongues less pure to tell,
And thought the shining one had drunk the spell
Of some black wave, all noisome and perturbed, —

Oh struggle that the earth with Heaven maintains !
If my belief may not be sculptured there,
To make the tomb above the poet’s dust more fair, —

That block which ever dark disaster stains, —
At least that granite should in future stay
Poe’s old blasphemers from their evil way.
And the yellow-haired young Eulaly became my…
Monter à travers la caverne du Lion
Avec l’amour dans ses yeux lumineux.
Ah ! quel démon m’a vers ces lieux tenté !
Ils marchent devant moi, ces Yeux pleins de lumières,
Qu’un Ange très savant a sans doute aimantés ;
Ils marchent, ces divins frères qui sont mes frères,
Secouant dans mes yeux leurs feux diamantés.

Me sauvant de tout piège et de tout péché grave,
Ils conduisent mes pas dans la route du Beau.
Ils sont mes serviteurs et je suis leur esclave ;
Tout mon être obéit à ce vivant flambeau.

Charmants Yeux, vous brillez de la clarté mystique
Qu’ont les cierges brûlant en plein jour ; le soleil
Rougit, mais n’éteint pas leur flamme fantastique ;

Ils célèbrent la Mort, vous chantez le Réveil ;
Vous marchez en chantant le réveil de mon âme,
Astres dont nul soleil ne peut ternir la flamme !