(Alfred De Musset's poem translated from Francaise)
Hunting all memories and fixing the thoughts,
balanced on the blade of a golden axe,
Uncertain, uneasy, yet immobile;
Expand perhaps the dream of a moment;
Love the true, the beautiful, seek their harmony;
Listens in his heart the echo of his genius;
Sing, laugh, cry, alone, aimlessly, randomly;
On a smile, a word, a sigh, a glance
Make exquisite workmanship, full of fear and charm,
Make a pearl out of a teardrop;
The poet here has got passion,
That is his quality, his life and his ambition.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem