Saturday, March 24, 2007

Jules Laforgue: Pierrots (One Has Principles)

She said in her typically vain way,
“I love you for yourself”--oh, right, a likely story;
yes, like art! Settle down, oh dream of gold,
you're only fool's gold.

She went on: “I’m waiting… here I am… I don’t know”
Her look was as fake as the moon--
come on!-- could we have learned so little
from her down here?

Then one lovely but ill-fated evening,
she died--Great! change the subject!
We know you’re to be reborn on the third
day, if not in person, at least

in the fragrance, lushness, and flowing brooks
of summer months;
and, picking up more fools, you will go
to the veil of Gioconda, to her skirt.
I may even be one of them.

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