Les Yeux de Berthe

We are tired and in terrible moods. Last night we mourned with a bottle of wine and a few vague memories. Now she is afraid to keep on living. I don't know what to think, what to say. Everything that comes out of my mouth is stupid.

"I love you and will always love you and I could not put into words how to describe what you do to me when you think about death."

Too late now, on so many levels.

Sleep and smoke to your will. I have no reason to do otherwise.

The Eyes of Berthe
You can scorn the most celebrated eyes,
Beautiful eyes of my child, where filters and flies
A certain good something, sweet like Night!
Beautiful eyes, pour over me your delightful darkness!

Beautiful eyes of my child, mysteries adored,
You greatly resemble these magic grottos
Where, behind the heap of sluggish shadows,
Neglected treasures sparkle faintly!

My child has unlit eyes, deep and extensive,
Like you, great Night, clear like you!
Their fires are these thoughts of Love, mixed with Faith,
That sparkle in the depths, sultry or celibate.

Les Yeux de Berthe
Vous pouvez mépriser les yeux les plus célèbres,
Beaux yeux de mon enfant, par où filtre et s'enfuit
Je ne sais quoi de bon, de doux comme la Nuit!
Beaux yeux, versez sur moi vos charmantes ténèbres!

Grands yeux de mon enfant, arcanes adorés,
Vous ressemblez beaucoup à ces grottes magiques
Où, derrière l'amas des ombres léthargiques,
Scintillent vaguement des trésors ignorés!

Mon enfant a des yeux obscurs, profonds et vastes,
Comme toi, Nuit immense, éclairés comme toi!
Leurs feux sont ces pensers d'Amour, mêlés de Foi,
Qui pétillent au fond, voluptueux ou chastes.
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Happy birthday, venal muse. May you eternally frolic in the solitude of someone else's heart.