Sonnet blog

Last Hope

BY PAUL VERLAINE

TRANSLATED BY NORMAN R. SHAPIRO

Beside a humble stone, a tree

Floats in the cemetery’s air,

Not planted in memoriam there,

But growing wild, uncultured, free.

A bird comes perching there to sing,

Winter and summer, proffering

Its faithful song—sad, bittersweet.

That tree, that bird are you and I:

You, memory; absence, me, that tide

And time record. Ah, by your side

To live again, undying! Aye,

To live again! But ma petite,

Now nothingness, cold, owns my flesh. . .

Will your love keep my memory fresh?

This sonnet, if it fits into any one type, would be Petrarchan. This is because it starts out with an ABBA rhyme scheme. Other characteristics of this poem are that it is indeed fourteen lines and the majority of the lines contain eight syllables. The rhyme scheme and the consistency of the meter provides stability and a clear line of thought. Because the beginning and the end are provided in such a similar fashion, the reader is better able to follow the meaning of each individual line and thus the significance of the poem as a whole.

I selected this poem based solely upon its title. As I scrolled through the sonnet section of the website I looked for an interesting title and words that were easy to understand, because complex language when simpler language can be used is either excessive or showing off. Or both. Anyway, this poem’s title reminds me of the star wars movie “A New Hope”. There is nothing else that compelled me to select this poem among all of them available.