The Beacons Rubens, river of forgetfulness, garden of indolence,
Pillow of fresh flesh upon which one cannot love,
But where life ceaselessly teems and stirs,
Like the air in the sky and the sea in the sea;

Leonardo de Vinci, deep and somber mirror,
In which charming angels, with a sweet smile
Charged with mystery, appear in the shade
Of the glaciers and pines that circumscribe their land;

Rembrandt, sad hospital filled with murmurs,
Decorated only by a large crucifix,
And in which tearful prayers are breathed forth by trash,
And by a winter sunbeam brusquely traversed;

Michelangelo, uncertain terrain in which one sees Hercules
Mixed with Christs, and powerful phantoms
Drawing themselves fully erect and who, in the shadows,
Tear at their shrouds, stretching their fingers;

The boxer's anger, the impudence of the faune,
You who knew how to gather up the beauty of vulgar men,
Great heart swelled with pride, feeble, yellow man,
Puget, melancholy emperor of the galley-slave;

Watteau, this carnival where so many illustrious hearts,
Like butterflies, wander glitteringly,
Fresh and light scenery lighted by chandeliers
That pour forth madness on this swirling ballroom;

Goya, nightmare filled with unknown things,
Of foetuses cooked in the midst of witches' sabbaths,
Of old women before their mirrors and completely naked children,
To tempt the demons carefully adjusting their stockings;

Delacroix, lake of blood haunted by evil angels,
Shaded by a wood of evergreen pines,
Where, under a troubled sky, strange fanfares
Fade away, like a smothered sigh of Weber;

These curses, these blasphemies, these laments,
These ecstasies, these cries, these tears, these Te Deums,
Are an echo repeated by a thousand labyrinths;
It is for mortal hearts a divine opium!

It is a cry repeated by a thousand sentinels,
An order passed on by a thousand megaphones;
It is a beacon shining over a thousand citadels,
A hunters' call lost in the great woods!

For truly, Lord, the best testimony
That we can offer of our dignity
Is that ardent sobbing that rolls from era to era
And comes to die at the brink of your eternity!