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Rimbaud : OPHÉLIE I

On calm, black water, where the stars sleep,
Pale Ophelia floats like a great lily,
Floats almost motionless, bound in her long veils.
From the far woods, calls sound.

For more than a thousand years, Ophelia
Passes, a white phantom, on the long, dark stream ;
For more than a thousand years, her sweet folly
Murmurs its romance to the evening breeze.

The wind kisses her breasts, giving out in corollae
Vast curtains that are shaped softly by the waters ;
Trembling willows weep over her shoulders, and
The reeds incline over her broad, dreaming brow.

Crumpled waterlilies sigh around her ;
Sometimes, in a sleepy inlet, she disturbs a nest,
From which a shivering of slight wings escapes :
An obscure music falls from the golden stars—