Watch out, it's only a dream, but it can come true if you dream long enough...
My Recurrent Dream, Translation of Paul Verlaine's Sonnet : Mon Rêve Familier
I'm often subject to a strange and invasive dream
Of an elusive woman whom I love, and who loves me
And who at every encounter might not the same be
Nor altogether another be, yet forbearing in her love seem.
For knowing how my open heart laid bare will confirm
How for her alone it beats, helas ! I can breathe free
Yes, for her alone, the paleness of my brow dewy
She alone knows how to relieve, her tears stream.
Is she a brunette, blond or russet ? - I ignore.
Her name ? I recall it sounds sweet, echoes in the ear
Like those of lovers Life puts apart.
Likewise her looks, the gaze of statues,
And, as for her voice, distant and calm, and the art
Of the gravity of cherished voices long since mutes.
I beg to differ, Ron, and so would the entire French population. The feeling the poem evokes is something "platonic", nothing so much as a banal "wet dream", for which any other Hollywood star would do as an "object", don't you think so? The "object" of worship here, in this poem, rises above all forms of lechery or lasciviousness: she's almost "divine" in the Grecian sense: not Dionysian, unless you wish to read and conceive of the poem at a humdrum level of appreciation which is, of course, your absolute right and pleasure. Every good wish. Wignesan
Very poetically expressed by Verlaine's beautiful words. However, almost every virulent male has had one version or another of that dream. In fact, it has a clinical name… The wet dream.
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Ron