Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
La Mort de Paul VerlaineMax Michelson
T
In the bluish-white afternoon sky
Shed down ruddy flowers of light—
Big, capriciously shaped lilies and orchids—so thickly
That some, held at the stems, stood as if growing straight from the grass.
Among them he came—short, heavy, a little ragged,
With eyes and lips that had laughed much with wine;
Faintly-drunk, as if wine-vapors of the past were hovering in his head;
Blowing his flute and dancing,
Now fast, now slow, and now stopping … listening …
An earth-flower among the light flowers.
The light-flowers caressed his cheeks and his drowsy eyes with their cloud-like coolness—piling about him.
Did the trees understand?
As though it were a sunrise.