Open your closed eyelid, Brushed by a virginal dream. I am the spectre of a rose That you wore last night to the ball. You took me

Tell me, my young pretty, Where would you like to go? The sail unfolds its wing The breeze is coming up! The oar is of ivory The flag

It is not you, no, madam, whom I love, Nor you either, Juliet, nor you, Ophelia, nor Beatrice, nor that dove, Fair-haired Laura with the big eyes;

Do you know the white tomb Where floats, with plaintive sound, The shadow of a yew tree? On the yew, a pale dove, Sad and alone, at

When the new season comes When the cold shall have disappeared, The two of us will go, my lovely, To gather lillies-of the-valley in the

J\'aime à vous voir en vos cadres ovales, Portraits jaunis des belles du vieux temps, Tenant en main des roses un peu pâles, Comme il convient

Return, return, my beloved! Like a flower, far from the sun, he flower of my life is closed, Far from your rose-colored smile. Between

The big-bellied hippopotamus Lives in the jungles of Java, Where monsters growl from every lair, More than you\'d ever dream of. The boa

My dear love is dead: I will cry forever; Into the grave she carries My soul and my love. To heaven, without waiting for me She\'s

Sometimes a small boy finds a tiny seed And takes a porcelain pot whose colours charm His eye to serve as a garden-bed, Where monstrous blossoms

Nombril, je t\'aime, astre du ventre, Œil blanc dans le marbre sculpté, Et que l\'Amour a mis au centre Du sanctuaire où seul il entre, Comme

Vous avez un regard singulier et charmant ; Comme la lune au fond du lac qui la reflète, Votre prunelle, où brille une humide paillette, Au

C\'était une âme neuve, une âme de créole, Toute de feu, cachant à ce monde frivole Ce qui fait le poète, un inquiet désir De gloire aventureuse

La plus délicate des roses Est, à coup sûr, la rose-thé. Son bouton aux feuilles mi-closes De carmin à peine est teinté. On dirait une rose