Sap which mounts, and flowers which thrust, Your childhood is a bower: Let my fingers wander in the moss Where glows the rosebud Let me among the clean grasses Drink the drops of dew Which sprinkle the tender flower
A vast black sleep falls over my life sleep, all hope sleep, all desire. - Paul Verlaine
A vast black sleep falls over my life sleep, all hope sleep, all desire.
- Paul Verlaine
A poem is really a kind of machine for producing the poetic state by means of words. - Paul Verlaine
A poem is really a kind of machine for producing the poetic state by means of words.
I love this word decadence, all shimmering in purple and gold. It suggests the subtle thoughts of ultimate civilization, a high literary culture, a s… - Paul Verlaine
I love this word decadence, all shimmering in purple and gold. It suggests the subtle thoughts of ultimate civilization, a high literary culture, a s…
The poet is a madman lost in adventure. - Paul Verlaine
The poet is a madman lost in adventure.
Tears fall in my heart As tears fall on the town. - Paul Verlaine
Tears fall in my heart As tears fall on the town.
Sap which mounts, and flowers which thrust, Your childhood is a bower: Let my fingers wander in the moss Where glows the rosebud Let me among th… - Paul Verlaine
Sap which mounts, and flowers which thrust, Your childhood is a bower: Let my fingers wander in the moss Where glows the rosebud Let me among th…
La musique avant toute chose. - Paul Verlaine
La musique avant toute chose.
The rosy hearth, the lamplight's narrow beam, The meditation that is rather dream, With looks that lose themselves in cherished looks; The hour of st… - Paul Verlaine
The rosy hearth, the lamplight's narrow beam, The meditation that is rather dream, With looks that lose themselves in cherished looks; The hour of st…
Take eloquence and wring its neck. - Paul Verlaine
Take eloquence and wring its neck.
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