Complaint of the Moon in the Provinces

Ah! the beautiful full moon,
Huge as a fortune!

The retreat sounds in the distance,
Someone passes, the deputy mayor;

A harpsichord plays on the other side,
A cat crosses the square:

The provinces sleep!
Striking a final chord,

The piano shuts its window.
What time is it exactly?

Calm Moon, what an exile!
Need we speak : must it be?

Moon, oh dilettante Moon,
The same in every land,

You saw the Missouri yesterday,
And the ramparts of Paris,

The blue fjords of Norway,
The poles, the seas, what do I know?

Happy Moon! you can see,
Even now, the convoy

Leaving on her wedding-trip!
They are on their way to Scotland.

What a trap, if only, this winter
She had taken my verse at its word!

Moon, vagabond Moon, shall we share
A common cause, a single manner?

Jules Laforgue, translated by Andrew Ramier