Paul Verlaine. (№ 373185)

You my poems, eh to match their glory
With the lovely eyes with their beauty
Where dreams sweet laugh, where sometimes
Sadness breathing in all their diamond dew!..
Your soul Holy my creations all
I am ready to devote the enthusiastic soul!..
But Woe is me! The nightmare grows before me,
Like a pack of evil wolves in the forest... to Be a storm!..