Paul-Marie Verlaine (30 March 1844 – 8 January 1896) was a French poet associated with the Symbolist movement. He is considered one of the greatest representatives of the fin de siècle in international and French poetry.
Born in Metz, he was educated at the Lycée impérial Bonaparte (now the Lycée Condorcet) in Paris and then took up a post in the civil service. He began writing poetry at an early age, and was initially influenced by the Parnassien movement and its leader, Leconte de Lisle. Verlaine's first published poem was published in 1863 in La Revue du progrès, a publication founded by poet Louis-Xavier de Ricard. Verlaine was a frequenter of the salon of the Marquise de ... more »
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Paul Verlaine Poems
The Young Fools (Les Ingénus)
High-heels were struggling with a full-length dress So that, between the wind and the terrain, At times a shining stocking would be seen, And gone too soon. We liked that foolishness.
With long sobs the violin-throbs of autumn wound my heart with languorous
Il Pleure dans mon Coeur
Il pleure dans mon coeur Comme il pleut sur la ville. Quelle est cette langueur Qui pénêtre mon coeur ?
Your soul is like a painter's landscape where charming masks in shepherd mummeries are playing lutes and dancing with an air of being sad in their fantastic guise.
Leaf-strewing gales Utter low wails Like violins,-- Till on my soul
Clair De Lune
Your soul is as a moonlit landscape fair, Peopled with maskers delicate and dim, That play on lutes and dance and have an air
Tears Fall In My Heart
Tears fall in my heart Rain falls on the town; what is this numb hurt that enters my heart?...
See, blossoms, branches, fruit, leaves I have brought, And then my heart that for you only sighs;
In the deserted park, silent and vast, Erewhile two shadowy glimmering figures passed.
Birds In The Night
You were not over-patient with me, dear; This want of patience one must rightly rate: You are so young! Youth ever was severe
A Une Femme
To you these lines for the consoling grace Of your great eyes wherein a soft dream shines,
It weeps in my heart As it rains on the town. What is this dull smart Possessing my heart?
Heavy, My Despair
Oh, heavy, heavy my despair, Because, because of One so fair.
Hills and fences hurry by Blent in greenish-rosy flight, And the yellow carriage-light
Quotationsmore quotations »
''All the rest is mere fine writing.''Paul Verlaine (1844-1896), French poet. "L'Art Poetique," Jadis et Naguère (1884).
Comments about Paul Verlaine
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
The Young Fools (Les Ingénus)
High-heels were struggling with a full-length dress
So that, between the wind and the terrain,
At times a shining stocking would be seen,
And gone too soon. We liked that foolishness.
Also, at times a jealous insect's dart
Bothered out beauties. Suddenly a white
Nape flashed beneath the branches, and this sight
Was a delicate feast for a young fool's heart.
Evening fell, equivocal, dissembling,
The women who hung dreaming on our arms
Spoke in low voices, words that had such charms
That ever since our stunned soul has been trembling.