La Mort Des Amants - Translation By Non-French Speaker Poem by royness ( ' ' )

New auras delight, plain odours leaguer
And divans are preferred to tombs.
The strangest flowers sour the effect
Enclosing our new sister, the sow from below.

You shout aloud in envy. Shall hers down there
Not serve to coerce, to sever these vast flamboyancies?
Key reflections are lost, dampened illuminations
Dance now with spirits, the mirror jams.

Unsure fate, roses of blue mystique
New enchantments are declared unique -
There comes a long, low song, charged with goodbyes,

A pause taut with anger, enters over the portent
Veranda, raining men, joyful in fidelity,
The mirror turns these mortals into flames.