More Nerval. I've done all of "Les Chimeres," but will only post one more here. I like this one the best, I think.
I think of you, Myrtho, divine enchantress
Of proud Posilipo of the million flames,
Your face flooded in the glimmer of the Orient,
Of the back grapes that stained the gold of your braids.
In your sharp cup also I drank debauch
& in the quick flash of your grinning eyes,
When at Iacchus' feet I was seen suppliant
Because the muse has made me sole son of Greece.
I know why there the volcano reerupts...
Because yesterday you stroked it with your expert foot,
& of a sudden the horizon buried in ash.
Since a Norman duke broke your terracotta gods,
Forever under Virgil's bay laurels,
The pale hydrangea & the green myrtle entwine.