NPWM: Parsifal, by Verlaine

This April, for National Poetry Writing Month, I will be translating a poem each day instead of writing one out of my head. Today's poem is Verlaine's "Parsifal":

Parsifal

Parsifal has vanquished the Girls, their gentle
Babble, and sweet desire’s precipitous slope
On which a virgin boy in wantonness may stoop
To adore their swelling breasts, to love their gentle babble;

He has vanquished fair Woman and her subtle charms,
The grasp of her soft hands and her pale throat’s excitement;
He has vanquished Hell and returns now to his tent
With a heavy trophy in his boyish arms,

With the spear that pierced the Flank of the Supreme!
He has healed the king; see, he himself is king,
Priest of the sacred Treasure, holy and essential.

In robes of gold he kneels before the glorious Symbol,
The vessel pure wherein the royal Blood is gleaming.
—And O! those children’s voices, singing in the dome!