Arthur Rimbaud: Все стихи поэта

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On the calm black water where the stars are sleeping

White Ophelia floats like a great lily ;

Floats very slowly, lying in her long veils…

- In the far-off woods you can hear them sound the mort.

For more than a thousand years sad Ophelia

Has passed, a white phantom, down the long black river.

For more than a thousand years her sweet madness

Her clothes were almost off;

Outside, a curious tree

Beat a branch at the window

To see what it could see.

Perched on my enormous easy chair,

Half nude, she clasped her hands.

Her feet trembled on the floor,

As soft as they could be.