Pandemonium 61-70

Like Templars born of the crusading period,

Our gay companions quaffed cups full and myriad,

And each man’s brain was brimmed with tumult; each

Then raised his voice, at once, in splendid speech.                        

A whirlwind, now, of incoherent patter,

Of Visigoth inflections, fiery chatter,

Rolled out, cried out, leapt at the rum’s direction,

A forum stormed by raucous insurrection.

What moral chaos! God, what talk! Therein

Analysis itself becomes a sin.

Original: 

Rivaux des Templiers du siècle des croisades,

Nos convives joyeux burent force rasades.

Chaque cerveau s’emplit de tumulte, et les voix

Prirent superbement la parole à la fois.

Alors un tourbillon d’incohérentes phrases,

De chaleureux devis, de tudesques emphases,

Se déroula, hurla, bondit au gré du rum,

Comme une rauque émeute à travers un forum.

Vrai Dieu ! quels insensés dialogues ! — L’analyse

Devant tous ce chaos moral se scandalise. —