Mon devoir m’est remis. Il ne faut même plus songer à cela. Je suis réellement d’outre-tombe, et pas de commissions.

LIVES

I

O the enormous avenues of the Holy Land, the temple terraces! What has become of the Brahman who explained the proverbs to me? Of that time, of that place, I can still see even the old women! I remember silver hours and sunlight by the rivers, the hand of the country on my shoulder and our caresses standing on the spicy plains.—A flight of scarlet pigeons thunders round my thoughts. An exile here, I once had a stage on which to play all the masterpieces of literature. I would show you unheard-of riches. I note the story of the treasures you discovered. I see the outcome. My wisdom is as scorned as chaos. What is my nothingness to the stupor that awaits you?

II

I am an inventor more deserving far than all those who have preceded me; a musician, moreover, who has discovered something like the key of love. At present, a country gentleman of a bleak land with a sober sky, I try to rouse myself with the memory of my beggar childhood, my apprenticeship or my arrival in wooden shoes, of polemics, of five or six widowings, and of certain convivialities when my level head kept me from rising to the diapason of my comrades. I do not regret my old portion of divine gaiety: the sober air of this bleak countryside feeds vigorously my dreadful scepticism. But since this scepticism cannot, henceforth, be put to use, and since, moreover, I am dedicated to a new torment,—I expect to become a very vicious madman.

III

In a loft, where I was shut in when I was twelve, I got to know the world, I illustrated the human comedy. I learned history in a wine cellar. In a northern city, at some nocturnal revel, I met all the women of the old masters. In an old arcade in Paris, I was taught the classical sciences. In a magnificent dwelling encircled by the entire Orient, I accomplished my prodigious work and spent my illustrious retreat. I churned up my blood. My duty has been remitted. I must not even think of that any more. I am really from beyond the tomb, and no commissions.

DÉPART

Assez vu. La vision s’est rencontrée à tous les airs.

Assez eu. Rumeurs des villes, le soir, et au soleil, et toujours.

Assez connu. Les arrêts de la vie.—O Rumeurs et Visions!

Départ dans l’affection et le bruit neufs.

DEPARTURE

Seen enough. The vision was met with in every air.

Had enough. Sounds of cities, in the evening and in the sun and always.

Known enough. Life’s halts.—O Sounds and Visions!

Departure in new affection and new noise.

ROYAUTÉ

Un beau matin, chez un peuple fort doux, un homme et une femme superbes criaient sur la place publique: “Mes amis, je veux qu’elle soit reine!” “Je veux être reine!” Elle riait et tremblait. Il parlait aux amis de révélation, d’épreuve terminée. Ils se pâmaient l’un contre l’autre.

En effet, ils furent rois toute une matinée, où les tentures carminées se relevèrent sur les maisons, et toute l’après-midi, où ils s’avancèrent du côté des jardins de palmes.

ROYALTY

One fine morning, in a land of very gentle people, a superb man and woman shouted in the public square: “Friends, I want her to be queen!” “I want to be queen!” She laughed and trembled. He spoke to his friends of revelation, of ordeals terminated. They leaned on each other in ecstasy.

They were indeed sovereigns for a whole morning, while all the houses were adorned with crimson hangings, and for an entire afternoon, while they made their way toward the palm gardens.

A UNE RAISON

Un coup de ton doigt sur le tambour décharge tous tes sons et commence la nouvelle harmonie.

Un pas de toi, c’est la levée des nouveaux hommes et leur en-marche.

Ta tête se détourne: le nouvel amour! Ta tête se retourne: le nouvel amour!

“Change nos lots, crible les fléaux, à commencer par le temps”, te chantent ces enfants. “Elève n’importe où la substance de nos fortunes et de nos vœux”, on t’en prie.

Arrivée de toujours, qui t’en iras partout.

TO A REASON

A rap of your finger on the drum fires all the sounds and starts a new harmony.

A step of yours: the levy of new men and their marching on.

Your head turns away: O the new love! Your head turns back: O the new love!

“Change our lots, confound the plagues, beginning with time,” to you these children sing. “Raise no matter where the substance of our fortune and our desires,” they beg you.

Arrival of all time, who will go everywhere.

MATINÉE D’IVRESSE

O mon Bien! O mon Beau! Fanfare atroce où je ne trébuche point! Chevalet féerique! Hourra pour l’œuvre inouïe et pour le corps merveilleux, pour la première fois! Cela commença sous les rires des enfants, cela finira par eux.