Ophrey 1
Ophhelia floating on a white sleepy and dark water, floating like a large lily flower, lying in her slender yarn scarf ... - Hunter in far forest horn.
It has been more than a thousand years, and the depressed Ophreya is like a white ghost. It has been a long river; for more than a thousand years, she is gentle and crazy in the evening wind. Her love song.
The breeze kisses her breast, scattered her long yarn towel into a corolla, swaying it softly; the flooded wicker is sliding in her shoulders, and the reed is pouring in her dreamy wide.
The broken wicker is surrounded by her; she has a wake-up, the bird's nest on the squat, and she likes a tremor for a wings: - The golden star falls down a mysterious song.
2
Pale Otifia, the snow is beautiful! Yes, child, you are buried in rolling river - because the long winds from Norwegian peaks have stared whispers to you;
It is because a wind curly is your long hair, giving you a fantasy soul to send a strange voice; because of the embarrassment in the tree, your heart is listening to the nature in the sigh of the night;
Because of the crazy sea-made, like a huge breath, shredded yourself in a wholly-friendly baby; because a big morning, a pale US knight a poor madman, sitting in your knee side!
heaven! love! free! More beautiful dreams, poor mad girls! You are dissolved in it, such as the snow is dissolved in the fire, your great vision has lived on your words, terrible infinitely shocked your blue eyes!
3
The poet said that in the stars in the night, you are looking for the flowers you took off, but also say that he saw the white Ophiya floats in her long yarn, like a big lily flower.
Fly and white
Opheliai
On the Calm Black Water Where; Floats Like a Great Lily; Floats Very Slowly, Lying In Her Long Veils ...- in the far-off Woods you can hear the Sound the Mort.
For more Than a Thousand Years Sad Opheliahas Passed, A White Phantom, Down The Long Black River.for More Thani Thousand Years Her Sweet MadnessHas Murmured Its Ballad to the evening Breeze.
THE WINDS IN A WREASTS AND UNFOLDS in a Wreathher Great Veils; The Shiver Willows Weep On Her Shoulder, The Rushes Lean over Her, Dreaming Brow.
................. ..
Ii
O Pale Ophelia! Beautiful as snow! Yes Child, You Died, Carried Off By A River! - It Was The Winds below Norwaythat Spoke to you in low favori better freedom.
IT WAS A BREATH OF WIND, THAT, Twisting Your Great Hair, Brought Strange Rumors to Your Dreaming Mind; It Was Your Heart Listening To The Song of Naturein The Groans of The Tree and The Sights;
IT WAS The Voice of Mad Seas, The Great Roar, That Shattered Your CHild's Heart, Too Human and Too Soft; It Was A Handsome Pale Knight, a Poor Madmanwho One April Morning Sate Mute At Your Knes!
Heaven! Love! Freedom! What a dream, oh poor crazed girl! You milted to him as snow does to a fire; Your Great Visions Strangle Words- and Fearful Infinity Terrified Your Blue Eye!
Iii
- and the poet sayings, in the night, the flowers that you picked That He Has Seen On The Water, Lying In Her Long Veilswhoo Ophelia floating, like a great lily.
Poems. May 15, 1870.
From oliver bernard's translation: Arthur Rimbaud, Collected Poems (1962)
