An Anthology of Modern Bohemian Poetry/Melancholy Serenade XXII
MELANCHOLY SERENADE XXII
Naught brings such grievous pain
As a flute with passionate strain,
When in the rosy glow of eve
The light of day doth wane.
'Mid trees the sound doth flow,
In darkness lying low,
Saying: "O ye dreams of youth,
Ye fill my soul with woe!"
And it laments and sighs,
In tender, moving wise,
As my belovèd, softly breathing
O'er my brow and eyes.
Hark! the rushes render,
Accents dreamy, tender,
And they quiver, as 'neath kisses
Thy bosom in its splendour.
They flow in sorrow blent.
Night is a flower; there went
From out its bosom, spreading languor,
A music-laden scent!
Naught brings such grievous pain
As a flute with passionate strain,
When in the rosy glow of eve
The light of day doth wane.
This work is a translation and has a separate copyright status to the applicable copyright protections of the original content.
| Original: |
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
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| Translation: |
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929. The longest-living author of this work died in 1970, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 53 years or less. This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works.
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