Poems by Emile Verhaeren
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The Silence
... Long, narrow paths stretch their straight lines unbent ...
She Of The Garden
... Sealed with a clasp, with threads of woollen bound ...
The Snow
... Round the stone-cold hearths and the flameless souls ...
Infinitely
... And pass each other, coming unfolded in the distance, soundlessly, ...
The Ferryman
... Drifting, his barque struck somewhere, as by chance, ...
Les Heures Claires
... Première Que l'univers, sous leur clarté, nous apparaît ...
The Rope-Maker
... Through streams of blood, to heavens of victory still ...
Life
... Till one lives in all that which acts, struggles, and thrills, ...
The Wind
... The wind, it sends scudding dead leaves from the birches ...
The Cathedral Of Rheims
... And then That which was splendid with baptismal grace ...
Excerpts from "LES HEURES CLAIRES" (English translations)
... XXI. In hours like these, when through our dream of bliss ...
Tenebrae
... At the winter, enthroned vast and white upon the hard ground ...
Joy
... And you, straight frame, and lungs outbreathing wide, ...
Rain
... With its grey nails, and with its watery mane ...
The Grave-Digger
... With gaze worn-out from travelling through the years ...
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