Maurice Maeterlinck
My faded yearning's blue glass
Hides the vague old sorrow,
From which I have recovered,
And which now dries up in its slumber.
Its adorning flower is just a symbol now:
Ample pleasure's somber water lily,
Listless palms of desire,
Soft creepers, cool mosses.
Just one lily in the bouquet,
Pale and rigid in her frailty;
Rises up
Above all the sorrow transformed into leaves.
Fair are her leaves to the eye,
She sows white moonlight-glitter all around her,
Up above to that blue crystal
She sends her mystical prayer.
Christine Schäfer (soprano), Pierre Boulez, Ensemble InterContemporain еще тексты
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