MYRTHO
Gérard de Nerval (1808-55)

Myrtho I yearn for you, divine enchantress high
On Posilipo, among a thousand blazing fires
Forehead drenched with the shining light of the East
Black grapes knotted into the gold of your hair

For you I've fallen drunk, bewitched
By the furtive light of your smiling eye
At Bacchus' feet, where they saw me kneel
Inducted by the Muse into the house of Greece

And so I know why, now, this volcano re-erupted
Because yesterday your feet skipped across it, at their touch
The wide horizon was suddenly smothered with ash

And though the Norman Dukes have broken your clay image
Still forever, under Virgil's laurels, among the sickly
Hortensias will be twined one green Myrtle!

<<