THE GENESIS OF BUTTERFLIES

by: Victor Hugo (1802-1885)

      HE dawn is smiling on the dew that covers
      The tearful roses; lo, the little lovers
      That kiss the buds, and all the flutterings
      In jasmine bloom, and privet, of white wings,
      That go and come, and fly, and peep and hide,
      With muffled music, murmured far and wide.
      Ah, the Spring time, when we think of all the lays
      That dreamy lovers send to dreamy mays,
      Of the fond hearts within a billet bound,
      Of all the soft silk paper that pens wound,
      The messages of love that mortals write
      Filled with intoxication of delight,
      Written in April and before the May time
      Shredded and flown, playthings for the wind's playtime,
      We dream that all white butterflies above,
      Who seek through clouds or waters souls to love,
      And leave their lady mistress in despair,
      To flit to flowers, as kinder and more fair,
      Are but torn love-letters, that through the skies
      Flutter, and float, and change to butterflies.

This English translation of "The Genesis of Butterflies" was composed by Andrew Lang (1844-1912).

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