(no subject)
Alcuin was content.
When he had come into the rec room earlier and ran his fingers over the spines of books on the shelf as he'd done a thousand times by now, one faded, worn volume had caught his interest. It was large, and heavy, and he'd nearly dropped it when he'd pulled it out. But when he'd opened it, his whole face had lit when he'd realized that not only were the words written in French, but in verse.
After only a few minutes, he lay sprawled on the couch, legs dangling over the side and the large book resting on his torso. There was a cup of black tea (with a bit of milk) sitting on the table beside him, but it had started to cool, forgotten.
He turned a page and found himself on a poem labeled simply "L'amour," and he actually found himself murmuring the words softly aloud to appreciate the rhythm.
"Vous demandez si l'amour rend heureuse;
Il le promet, croyez-le, fût-ce un jour.
Ah! pour un jour d'existence amoureuse,
Qui ne mourrait? la vie est dans l'amour."
You asked if love makes one happy.
His promise's yes, be it for a day.
Ah, who wouldn't want to live one day for love
Then die? For life does live in love.
He sighed. It was really quite lovely, and he had such a weakness for verse.
When he had come into the rec room earlier and ran his fingers over the spines of books on the shelf as he'd done a thousand times by now, one faded, worn volume had caught his interest. It was large, and heavy, and he'd nearly dropped it when he'd pulled it out. But when he'd opened it, his whole face had lit when he'd realized that not only were the words written in French, but in verse.
After only a few minutes, he lay sprawled on the couch, legs dangling over the side and the large book resting on his torso. There was a cup of black tea (with a bit of milk) sitting on the table beside him, but it had started to cool, forgotten.
He turned a page and found himself on a poem labeled simply "L'amour," and he actually found himself murmuring the words softly aloud to appreciate the rhythm.
"Vous demandez si l'amour rend heureuse;
Il le promet, croyez-le, fût-ce un jour.
Ah! pour un jour d'existence amoureuse,
Qui ne mourrait? la vie est dans l'amour."
You asked if love makes one happy.
His promise's yes, be it for a day.
Ah, who wouldn't want to live one day for love
Then die? For life does live in love.
He sighed. It was really quite lovely, and he had such a weakness for verse.