La Mélinite: Moulin Rouge

Olivier Metra's Waltz of Roses Sheds in a rhythmic shower The very petals of the flower; And all is roses, The rouge of petals in a shower. Down the long hall the dance returning Rounds the full circle, rounds The perfect rose of lights and sounds, The rose returning Into the circle of its rounds. Alone, apart, one dancer watches Her mirrored, morbid grace; Before the mirror, face to face, Alone she watches Her morbid, vague, ambiguous grace. Before the mirror's dance of shadows She dances in a dream, And she and they together seem A dance of shadows; Alike the shadows of a dream. The orange-rosy lamps are trembling Between the robes that turn; In ruddy flowers of flame that burn The lights are trembling: The shadows and the dancers turn. And, enigmatically smiling, In the mysterious night, She dances for her own delight, A shadow smiling Back to a shadow in the night.