THE PASSIONS

by: Maurice Maeterlinck

      ARROW paths my passions tread:
      Laughter rings there, sorrow cries;
      Sick and sad, with half-shut eyes,
      Thro' the leaves the woods have shed,
       
      My sins like yellow mongrels slink;
      Uncouth hyenas, my hates complain,
      And on the pale and listless plain
      Couching low, love's lion's blink.
       
      Powerless, deep in a dream of peace,
      Sunk in a languid spell they lie,
      Under a colourless, desolate sky,
      There they gaze and never cease,
       
      Where like sheep temptations graze,
      One by one departing slow:
      In the moon's unchanging glow
      My unchanging passions gaze.

This English translation of 'The Passions' is reprinted from Poems by Maurice Maeterlinck. Trans. Bernard Miall. New York: Dodd, Mead and Company, 1915.

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