[BRIEF NOTE] A Translation of Vaisseau D'Or

[rfmcdonald]

By Émile Nelligan, the original version available here, the translation by Matthew McLaughlin available here with other translations besides on his site.

She was a tall ship, carved of solid gold;
On unknown seas, her masts reached to the blue,
Nude Cythereia's hair, disshevelled, flew,
Stretched at the bowsprit, as the sun shone bold.

But one night on the Siren’s treacherous wave,
The ship struck a great reef that lurked below;
And the appalling wreck plunged its keel low
In the Pit’s depths, the ineluctible grave.

She was a ship of gold, whose airy beams
Showed treasures for which the crew obscene,
Neurosis, Hate, Disgust, bickered and yelled.

What's left there after the brief tempest’s screams?
What of my heart, abandoned, shipwrecked shell?
Alas! it has sunk into the depths of dreams...