Lundi à une heureq
By Marcel Proust
Translated by シビルちゃん

The callousness of all nature
Thus seems to fill the void of our hearts.
It is blind matter's deceptive game
Where in opal and sky and eyes, victorious
And wounded in turn, love seemed to dream.
The form of crystals, the pigment of pupils,
And the thickness of the air deceives us in turn,
Trying to deceive our eternal anguish
Across nature, and woman, and eyes;
And the tenderness of light blue
Is a lie in the opal
And in the sky and in your eyes.