Contemporary Belgian Poetry Selected and Translated by Jethro Bithell

One day there was a poor little banquet in the suburbs of my soul! Hemlock was being mown one Sunday morning; And all the virgins of the convent were watching vessels passing on...

To-day is the day of rest, the Sabbath, A morning of sunshine, and of bees, And of birds in the garden trees, To-day is the day of rest, the Sabbath;

For the lover drunken on my lips that burn, Whether he pour in turn The wines of gold and flame or love's wave to my rim, Drinks from my soul for ever strange to him A queenly s...

Under the elm-trees' violaceous shade The fresh anemones have snowed the glade; The undergrowth bathes in a fawn half-light; The pure air crackles with a lizard's flight; And th...

She whom my heart in dream already loves Will under childlike curls have great blue eyes; Her voice will be as sweet as that of doves, Her skin a faint rose like a dream that dies.

Le givre: vivre libre en l'ire de l'hiver, Rumeur qui se retrait au regard d'une vitre Ou, peut-etre, fremit ephemere l'elytre De tel vol ou d'un souffle epais de menu-vair. Le...

With skilful fingers thin and old, Fearing to break the glint of gold That with his work the gliding light Blends by the houses growing dim, The visionary roper weaves Out of th...

But kermesse is for them a festival, Even for the dirtiest, the stingiest, There go the lads to keep the wenches warm. A huge meal, greased with bacon and hot sauces, Makes thei...

Her sweet voice was a music in mine ear; And in the perfume of the atmosphere Which, in that eve, her shadowy presence shed, "Sister of mystery," trembling I said, "Too like an...

Now let the dead past fall into the deep, With all its sleepy songs and churching chimes, You are the Bell that gospels mightier times O'er men who scale the Future's rugged steep,

The frenzy climbs, and sinks to rise still higher, Rolls like exasperated tides, And backwards glides, Until the moment when dawn fills the port, And Death, tired of the sport,...