The Lake

Forever swept to unknown shores away,
Propelled through endless night implacably,
Shall we not once on time’s primeval sea
Drop anchor for a day?

O Lake! a year is over. On this stone,
By these dear waves she should have viewed again,
Before you she was seated. I remain,
And sit to-day alone.

Just so, beneath these plunging cliffs, you roared,
And dashed yourself against their jagged walls;
Your wind-blown foam fell then, where now it falls,
Here on her feet adored.

Recall how we set out, one silent eve:
Nothing was heard between the waves and sky,
But noise of oars that stroked in harmony
The skein your waters weave.

Then, suddenly, to tones no mortals hear
The echoes on the spellbound shores awoke:
The flood gave heed; across the water spoke
The voice that I hold dear:-

“Time, halt in your flight, and you hours, as a favour,
Stop short and stand still in your ways!
Since pleasures are fleeting, let’s eagerly savour
Our best and most beautiful days!

“For the wretches who suffer, run swiftly, you hours;
They are many, and this they implore:
Put an end to their days, and their care that devours;
But the happy, I bid you ignore!

“For myself, I may crave a few moments – but no,
Time gives me the slip, takes flight:
I may say to the night, ‘Go slow, go slow’,
But the dawn will scatter the night.

“So to Love! Let us love! Seize the wings of the morn,
And delight in the scurrying day!
For Man has no haven, and Time has no bourn:
Time flies, and we vanish away!”

Time, jealous Time! In bursts of giddy joy,
Love inundates us with great happiness;
Do these a faster wayward flight employ
Than days of wretchedness?

What? Can we not pin down at least a trace?
What? Lost entirely? Gone for evermore?
Time gave, and Time is minded to efface;
And shall not Time restore?

Dark gulfs, eternity, the past, the void!
You swallow down our days; and what’s their fate?
Will you give back what you have once destroyed,
Our bliss, divinely great?

O Lake! Mute rocks and caves! Dim greenery!
Which Time shall spare, or render young again:
Natural Beauty! Guard this night for me,
Remember, and retain.

Both in your tempests let this memory dwell,
Fair lake, and in your calm; your slopes that smile,
And the black firs and, high above your swell,
The louring rocky pile;

And in your tremulous and fleeting breeze,
Your shore-sound that your further shore relays;
And the star silver-browed, whose clarities
Give whiteness to your glaze;

And moaning wind, and softly sighing reed,
Light perfumes, on your balmy zephyrs moved;
And everything that’s heard, or seen, or breathed:
All this shall say “They loved!”

Original by Alphonse de Lamartine. Translated by Timothy Adès.