Alfred de Musset was a 19th-century French poet, playwright and novelist. His love affair with "George Sand" (nom de plume of Amantine-Lucile-Aurore Dupin), which lasted from 1833 to 1835, is told from his point of view in his autobiographical novel, La Confession d'un Enfant du Siècle, and from her point of view in her Elle et lui.
He was also a friend of Victor Hugo, recognized as the most influential Romantic writer of the 19th century and as the greatest French poet.
Locke is trying to draw the blast door map on a book of poems by French 19th century romantic writer Alfred de Musset. In Sur les Débuts de Mesdemoiselles Rachel et Pauline Garcia, the poet praises the naive and fresh approach to life and the arts of two young girls who have just entered social life, as opposed to that of old connoisseurs. Here is an unofficial translation of this poem :
On the beginnings of Ms. Rachel and Pauline Garcia
So whatever one says, it does not run dry,
The immortal and fertile source
Which the divine horse made spring under her feet;
It still exists, this sap of the world
It flows, and the gods are still here below!
What use are to us so many frivolous fights,
So many efforts, always vain and always revived?
A chaos so pompous of useless words,
And so many powerless hammers
Hitting the ancient idols ?
Let’s hold forth on the arts, let’s act like connoisseurs;
Even if we change our errors
Like a mistress’s libertine,
The lilacs in the spring will always be in blossom,
And the immortal arts will endlessly get young.
Let’s discuss our flaws, our dreams and our tastes,
Let’s compare at leisure the modern and the ancient,
And fight under these jealous flags!
And when we get to the end of our rhetoric,
Two children born yesterday will know more than we do.
O young hearts filled with ancient poetry,
Be welcome, cherished children of the gods
You have the same age and the same genius.
Blessed be the soft clarity
That you bring back into our eyes.
Go! may happiness follow you!
It is not a fickle whim of chance
That made you be born at the same moment.
Your mother here below is the attentive Muse
Who eternally watches over the sacred fire.
Obey without fear to the god that inspires you.
Ignore, if it is possible, that we talk about you.
These complaints, these chords, these tears, this soft smile.
All your treasures, give them to us.
Sing, children, let us say it.