montreal : quebec
this poem says all.
a passer-by (à une passante)
the deafening street roared on. full, slim, and grand
in mourning and majestic grief, passed down
a woman, lifting with a stately hand
and swaying the black borders of her gown;
noble and swift, her leg with statues matching;
i drank, convulsed, out of her pensive eye,
a livid sky where hurricanes were hatching,
sweetness that charms, and joy that makes one die.
a lighting-flash � then darkness! fleeting chance
whose look was my rebirth � a single glance!
through endless time shall I not meet with you?
far off! too late! or never! � I not knowing
who you may be, nor you where I am going �
you, whom I might have loved, who know it too!
translation by roy campbell (it's not the only one, you can find some more here)