My lonely life wanders in the streets,
Along the countryside or the walls of the room.
No blood flows anymore in my dead hands,
Silenced, my heart has let deed die away.
Cloister monk out of the time of the Carolines,
I sit with a serious Flemish face by the window;
I see people go their way on the sunny fields,
And hear seamen singing along the canals.
Artist out of the time of the Renaissance,
I draw at night the smile of a beautiful woman
Or bend myself over a mirror and observe
The considerable shine of my very own eyes.
A poet out of the time of Baudelaire,
By day among books, at night in a caf
(Martinus Nijhoff)
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Based on Topics: Night Poems, Time Poems, Beauty Poems, Smiling Poems, Art Poems, Literature Poems, Books Poems, Poets PoemsBased on Keywords: baudelaire, flemish, renaissance, carolines