Poem The watch by Théophile Gautier

Twice I look at my watch,
And twice to my distracted eyes
The needle in the same place shows itself;
It's one o'clock... an hour later.

The figure of the pendulum
Laughs about it in the neighboring living room,
And the silver stamp modulates
Two shots vibrating like a tocsin.

The sundial mocks me
Indicating to me, with his long finger,
The path on the wall
Has made its growing shadow.

The bell tower with irony
Said the true number and the belfry,
Taking up the finished note,
Seems like he's making fun of me.

Hold ! the little creature is dead.
I didn't put yesterday yet,
So strong was my reverie,
To the ruby ​​hole the golden key!

And I no longer see, in its box,
The fine spring of the pendulum
Go, come, left, right,
As well as a steel butterfly.

That’s good from me! When I ride
The Hippogriff, in the land of Blue,
My soulless body is debauched,
And go as it pleases God!

Eternity continues its circle
Around this silent dial,
And time, ear to the lid,
Look for this heart that moved;

This heart that the child believes is alive,
And whose every pulse
In our chest is followed
With an equal vibration,

He no longer beats, but his big brother
Still throbbing at my side.
- The one that nothing can distract,
When I was sleeping, put it back together!