I’m using it in the title of a poem and it is an allusion and echo of the phrase, La Belle Dame Sans Merci by Keats – The beautiful woman, my only regret is the intended title – and I would like it in French specifically to echo Keats.
Against better judgement here is the poem:
La Belle Dame Mon Seul Regret
I am in New York
could be London
or Paris
or any city alive
with the noisy
stench of decadence
Unnoticed
I sit among my silent
prayers
drinking water
eating hummus
at a small
sidewalk café
Disturbed by a rose
growing broken from
a pale hand
“God loves you”
I look, she is perhaps twenty
soft, scented sweet
“God loves you,”
“Don’t be sad,
He has a plan for
your life”
I notice her eyes
lovely and green
her lips like the rose
her skin bright clean
She wears her
beauty like summer wears
sunlight
how can she
not know herself a harlot
she is temptation
I will not have
I take the flower
pricked by the thorn
mumble through
her apology
that it is all right
that yes
there is a plan
Her eyes swallow me
I hear the click
it is come
This café is the mortar
and I the pestle will
grind out holy retribution
many sounds
mix with the
agonies of terror
pain fills and
fulfills me
I bloom fire and steel
a flower of divine
anger a roar to
smite the
unworthy
I could be in Paris
red lips near mine
perfume whispering
unholy acts in my head
emerald eyes my world
I apologize, it is a work in progress, but hopefully it will clear up the context and help with the translation – which I appreciate to no end.
Thank you.