My dream pet

My dream pet

I often dream this strange and penetrating
One unknown woman, and that I love and who loves me
And that is, every time, or quite the same
Neither any in fact another, and loves me and understands me.

Because she understands me, and my heart, transparent
For her alone, alas! Ceases to be a problem for
Alone, and the dampness of my pale face, she only knows them cool, weeping.

Is it brown, blonde or red? - I do not know.
His name? I remember it was sweet and sound
As those that loved life exiled.

His eyes are like the eyes of statues, And for her voice, distant, quiet and serious, she
The inflection of voice that expensive are silent.

Paul Verlaine.