Esmeralda In Prison.

("Phoebus, n'est-il sur la terre?")

[OPERA OF "ESMERALDA," ACT IV., 1836.]


Phoebus, is there not this side the grave,
    Power to save
Those who're loving? Magic balm
That will restore to me my former calm?
Is there nothing tearful eye
Can e'er dry, or hush the sigh?
I pray Heaven day and night,
As I lay me down in fright,
To retake my life, or give
All again for which I'd live!
Phoebus, hasten from the shining sphere
    To me here!
Hither hasten, bring me Death; then Love
May let our spirits rise, ever-linked, above!

Victor-Marie Hugo

Victor-Marie Hugo was a French poet, novelist, and dramatist of the Romantic movement. He is considered one of the greatest French writers, with works such as "Les Misérables" and "The Hunchback of Notre-Dame." His literary works often explore themes of justice, love, and human rights. In addition to his literary achievements, he was also a politician and human rights activist. Hugo's influence extends beyond literature into politics and society.

Victor-Marie Hugo

St. John.

Victor-Marie Hugo, Simple Poetry

Zara, The Bather

Victor-Marie Hugo, Simple Poetry

The Rose And The Grave.

Victor-Marie Hugo, Simple Poetry

The Morrow Of Grandeur.

Victor-Marie Hugo, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

The Exile's Desire.

("Si je pouvais voir, O patrie!")

[Bk. III. xxxvii.]


Would I could see you, native land,
Where lilacs and the almond stand
Behind fields flowering to the strand -
    But no!

Can I - oh, father, mother, crave
Another final blessing save
To rest my head upon your grave? -
    But no!

In the one pit where ye repose,
Would I could tell of France's woes,
My brethren, who fell facing foes -
    But no!

Would I had - oh, my dove of light,
After whose flight came ceaseless night,
One plume to clasp so purely white. -
    But no!

Far from ye all - oh, dead, bewailed!
The fog-bell deafens me empaled
Upon this rock - I feel enjailed -
    Though free.

Like one who watches at the gate

Victor-Marie Hugo

The Veil.

("Qu'avez-vous, mes frères?")

[XI., September, 18288.]

"Have you prayed tonight, Desdemona?"


THE SISTER

What has happened, my brothers? Your spirit to-day
Some secret sorrow damps
There's a cloud on your brow. What has happened? Oh, say,
For your eyeballs glare out with a sinister ray
Like the light of funeral lamps.
And the blades of your poniards are half unsheathed
In your belt - and ye frown on me!
There's a woe untold, there's a pang unbreathed
In your bosom, my brothers three!

ELDEST BROTHER.

Gulnara, make answer! Hast thou, since the dawn,
To the eye of a stranger thy veil withdrawn?

THE SISTER.

As I came, oh, my brother! at noon - from the bath -
As I came - it was noon, my lords -<...

Victor-Marie Hugo

The Turkish Captive.

("Si je n'était captive.")

[IX., July, 1828.]


Oh! were I not a captive,
I should love this fair countree;
Those fields with maize abounding,
This ever-plaintive sea:
I'd love those stars unnumbered,
If, passing in the shade,
Beneath our walls I saw not
The spahi's sparkling blade.

I am no Tartar maiden
That a blackamoor of price
Should tune my lute and hold to me
My glass of sherbet-ice.
Far from these haunts of vices,
In my dear countree, we
With sweethearts in the even
May chat and wander free.

But still I love this climate,
Where never wintry breeze
Invades, with chilly murmur,
These open lattices;
Where rain is warm in summer,
And the insect glossy green,
Most like a living emeral...

Victor-Marie Hugo

The Land Of Fable.

("L'Orient! qu'y voyez-vous, poëtes?")

[PRELUDE, b.]


Now, vot'ries of the Muses, turn your eyes,
Unto the East, and say what there appears!
"Alas!" the voice of Poesy replies,
"Mystic's that light between the hemispheres!"

"Yes, dread's the mystic light in yonder heaven -
Dull is the gleam behind the distant hill;
Like feeble flashes in the welkin driven,
When the far thunder seems as it were still!

"But who can tell if that uncertain glare
Be Phoebus' self, adorned with glowing vest;
Or, if illusions, pregnant in the air,
Have drawn our glances to the radiant west?

"Haply the sunset has deceived the sight -
Perchance 'tis evening, while we look for morning;
Bewildered in the mazes of twilight,
That lucid sunset ...

Victor-Marie Hugo

My Happiest Dream.

("J'aime à me figure.")

[Bk. III. vii. and viii.]


I love to look, as evening fails,
On vestals streaming in their veils,
Within the fane past altar rails,
Green palms in hand.
My darkest moods will always clear
When I can fancy children near,
With rosy lips a-laughing - dear,
Light-dancing band!

Enchanting vision, too, displayed,
That of a sweet and radiant maid,
Who knows not why she is afraid, -
Love's yet unseen!
Another - rarest 'mong the rare -
To see the gaze of chosen fair
Return prolonged and wistful stare
Of eager een.

But - dream o'er all to stir my soul,
And shine the brightest on the roll,
Is when a land of tyrant's toll
By sword is rid.
I say not dagger - with the sword
When R...

Victor-Marie Hugo

Gastibelza.

("Gastibelza, l'homme à la carabine.")

[XXII., March, 1837.]


Gastibelza, with gun the measure beating,
    Would often sing:
"Has one o' ye with sweet Sabine been meeting,
    As, gay, ye bring
Your songs and steps which, by the music,
    Are reconciled -
Oh! this chill wind across the mountain rushing
    Will drive me wild!

"You stare as though you hardly knew my lady -
    Sabine's her name!
Her dam inhabits yonder cavern shady,
    A witch of shame,
Who shrieks o' nights upon the Haunted Tower,
    With horrors piled -
Oh! this chill wind, etc.

"Sing on and leap - enjoying all the favors
    Good heaven sends;
She, too, was young - her lips had peachy savors
    With honey blends;
Give to that ...

Victor-Marie Hugo