Toast ---by Stephane Mallarme

Traduction by Bert Laub

 

Nothing, this spume, this virgin verse has

to designate but the cup, thus afar sports

lithely a troop of sirens...

 

We sail, o my divers friends, I already

aft, you the intrepid prow which cleaves

the storm of lightnings and winter...

 

 

A sweet intoxication engages me

without fear even of the roll

standing to lift this toast...

 

Solitude, reef, star - to no matter

what is worth the white concern of our

sail...

 (miserablement disfiguree)

Commentary

Toast:Salut. The component symbol of the ship represents poetry, its white sail the blank page of possibility. Only when attempting to describe it does one realize how plainly allegorical it is; for the charm of the presentation and the vivid quality of the images saves it from the flat effect that many allegories convey. The poet suavely negates his verse, likening it to a troop of sirens (the Parnassians?...Gautier has a poem, I recall, about sirens fleeing before a steamship) disappearing in the distance. The toast Mallarmé offers..."solitude récif, étoile"...summarizes in symbol, the life of the poet. While pursuing whatever may be worth the care of his white page, the lonely poet must watch for the reef of actuality that will wreck him and the star of the ideal that will forever elude him.