Désespoir by Oscar Wilde read by Various | Full Audio Book
Sep 10, 2026
Désespoir by Oscar Wilde (1854 - 1900)
Genre(s): Multi-version (Weekly and Fortnightly poetry)
Read by: Alan Mapstone, Anita Hibbard, Adrian Stephens, Bruce Kachuk, Beeswaxcandle, dc, David Lawrence, LeeSalter, infinitevocals, Garth Burton, Lee Ann Howlett, SlateBrick, Stacey Malcolm, ShrimpPhish, UnderDown in English
Chapters:
00:00:00 - 01 - Désespoir - read by AAM
00:01:33 - 02 - Désespoir - read by AH
00:02:42 - 03 - Désespoir - read by APS
00:03:59 - 04 - Désespoir - read by BK
00:05:12 - 05 - Désespoir - read by BWC
00:06:13 - 06 - Désespoir - read by DC
00:07:14 - 07 - Désespoir - read by DL
00:08:31 - 08 - Désespoir - read by DLS
00:09:47 - 09 - Désespoir - read by DW
00:10:58 - 10 - Désespoir - read by GLN
00:12:14 - 11 - Désespoir - read by LAH
00:13:23 - 12 - Désespoir - read by SB
00:14:26 - 13 - Désespoir - read by SLM
00:15:28 - 14 - Désespoir - read by SP
00:16:36 - 15 - Désespoir - read by UD
LibriVox volunteers bring you 15 recordings of Désespoir by Oscar Wilde.This was the Weekly Poetry project for April 19, 2026. ------'This collection of Wilde's Poems contains the volume of 1881 in its entirety. Two new poems, ‘Désespoir' and ‘Pan,' which I have recently discovered in manuscript, are now printed for the first time.' (Robert Ross from the introduction to Poems by Oscar Wilde) - Summary by David Lawrence
AI GeneratedMay contain errors
Video Summary
AI GeneratedThis transcript consists of multiple public domain audio recordings of the poem \"Des Espoirs\" by Oscar Wilde, provided by liverbox.org. Various narrators read the same text, which contrasts the cyclical renewal of nature with the linear, irreversible decline of human life and memory.
Des Espoirs, by Oscar Fingal O'Flaherty-Wells Wilde, read for liverybox.org by Alan Mapstone.
The seasons send their ruin as they go, for in the spring the Narcissus shows its head,
Nor withers till the rose has flamed to red, And in the autumn purple violets blow,
And the slim crocus stirs the winter snow.
Wherefore yon leafless trees will bloom again, And this grey land grow green with summer rain,
And send up cowslips for some boy to mow.
But what of life whose bitter hungry sea Flows at our heels, and gloom of sunless night
Covers the days which nevermore return?
Ambition, love, and all the thoughts that burn We lose too soon, and only find delight
In withered husks of some dead memory.
End of poem.
This recording is in the public domain.
Des Espoirs, by Oscar Wilde, read for liverbox.org by Anita Hibbard.
April 20th, 2026.
The seasons send their ruin as they go, for in the spring the Narcissus shows its head,
Nor withers till the rose has flamed to red, And in the autumn purple violets blow,
And the slim crocus stirs the winter snow.
Wherefore yon leafless trees will bloom again, And this grey land grow green with summer rain,
And send up cowslips for some boy to mow.
But what of life whose bitter hungry sea Flows at our heels, and gloom of sunless night
Covers the days which nevermore return?
Ambition, love, and all the thoughts that burn We lose too soon, and only find delight
In withered husks of some dead memory.
End of poem.
This recording is in the public domain.
Des Espoirs, by Oscar Wilde, read for liverbox.org by Adrian Stevens.
The seasons send their ruin as they go, For in the spring the Narcissus shows its head,
Nor withers till the rose has flamed to red, And in the autumn purple violets blow,
And the slim crocus stirs the winter snow.
Wherefore yon leafless trees will bloom again, And this grey land grow green with summer rain,
And send up cowslips for some boy to mow.
But what of life whose bitter hungry sea Flows at our heels, and gloom of sunless night
Covers the days which nevermore return?
Ambition, love, and all the thoughts that burn We lose too soon, and only find delight
In withered husks of some dead memory.
End of poem.
This recording is in the public domain.
Des Espoirs, by Oscar Wilde, read for liverbox.org by Bruce Kachuk.
The seasons send their ruin as they go, For in the spring the Narcissus shows its head,
Nor withers till the rose has flamed to red, And in the autumn purple violets blow,
And the slim crocus stirs the winter snow.
Wherefore yon leafless trees will bloom again, And this grey land grow green with summer rain,
And send up cowslips for some boy to mow.
But what of life whose bitter hungry sea Flows at our heels, and gloom of sunless night
Covers the days which nevermore return?
Ambition, love, and all the thoughts that burn We lose too soon, and only find delight
In withered husks of some dead memory.
End of poem.
This recording is in the public domain.
Des Espoirs, by Oscar Wilde, read for liverbox.org by Beesway Scandal.
The seasons send their ruin as they go, For in the spring the Narcissus shows its head,
Nor withers till the rose has flamed to red, And in the autumn purple violets blow,
And the slim crocus stirs the winter snow.
Wherefore yon leafless trees will bloom again, And this grey land grow green with summer rain,
And send up cowslips for some boy to mow.
But what of life whose bitter hungry sea Flows at our heels, and gloom of sunless night
Covers the days which nevermore return?
Ambition, love, and all the thoughts that burn We lose too soon, and only find delight
In withered husks of some dead memory.
End of poem.
This recording is in the public domain.
Des Espoirs, by Oscar Wilde, read for liverbox.org by Beesway Scandal.
The seasons send their ruin as they go, For in the spring the Narcissus shows its head,
Nor withers till the rose has flamed to red, And in the autumn purple violets blow,
And the slim crocus stirs the winter snow.
Wherefore yon leafless trees will bloom again, And this grey land grow green with summer rain,
And send up cowslips for some boy to mow.
But what of life whose bitter hungry sea Flows at our heels, and gloom of sunless night
Covers the days which nevermore return?
Ambition, love, and all the thoughts that burn We lose too soon, and only find delight
In withered husks of some dead memory.
End of poem.
This recording is in the public domain.
Des Espoirs, by Oscar Wilde, read for liverbox.org by David Lawrence.
The seasons send their ruin as they go, For in the spring the Narcissus shows its head,
Nor withers till the rose has flamed to red, And in the autumn purple violets blow,
And the slim crocus stirs the winter snow.
Wherefore yon leafless trees will bloom again, And this grey land grow green with summer rain,
And send up cowslips for some boy to mow.
But what of life whose bitter hungry sea Flows at our heels, and gloom of sunless night
Covers the days which nevermore return?
Ambition, love, and all the thoughts that burn We lose too soon, and only find delight
In withered husks of some dead memory.
End of poem.
This recording is in the public domain.
Des Espoirs, by Oscar Wilde, read for liverbox.org by Lee Salter.
The seasons send their ruin as they go, For in the spring the Narcissus shows its head,
Nor withers till the rose has flamed to red, And in the autumn purple violets blow,
And the slim crocus stirs the winter snow.
Wherefore yon leafless trees will bloom again, And this grey land grow green with summer rain,
And send up cowslips for some boy to mow.
But what of life whose bitter hungry sea Flows at our heels, and gloom of sunless night
Covers the days which nevermore return?
Ambition, love, and all the thoughts that burn We lose too soon, and only find delight
In withered husks of some dead memory.
End of poem.
This recording is in the public domain.
Des Espoirs, by Oscar Wilde, read for liverbox.org by Daniel Waring.
On April 21st, 2026, in Queens, New York.
The seasons send their ruin as they go, For in the spring the Narcissus shows its head,
Nor withers till the rose has flamed to red, And in the autumn purple violets blow,
And the slim crocus stirs the winter snow.
Wherefore yon leafless trees will bloom again, And this grey land grow green with summer rain,
And send up cowslips for some boy to mow.
But what of life whose bitter hungry sea Flows at our heels, and gloom of sunless night
Covers the days which nevermore return?
Ambition, love, and all the thoughts that burn We lose too soon, and only find delight
In withered husks of some dead memory.
End of poem.
This recording is in the public domain.
Des Espoirs, by Oscar Wilde, read for liverbox.org by Garth Burton.
The seasons send their ruin as they go, For in the spring the Narcissus shows its head,
Nor withers till the rose has flamed to red, And in the autumn purple violets blow,
And the slim crocus stirs the winter snow.
Wherefore yon leafless trees will bloom again, And this grey land grow green with summer rain,
And send up cowslips for some boy to mow.
But what of life whose bitter hungry sea Flows at our heels, and gloom of sunless night
Covers the days which nevermore return?
Ambition, love, and all the thoughts that burn We lose too soon, and only find delight
In withered husks of some dead memory.
End of poem.
This recording is in the public domain.
Des Espoirs, by Oscar Wilde, read for liverbox.org by Leanne Howlett.
The seasons send their ruin as they go, For in the spring the Narcissus shows its head,
Nor withers till the rose has flamed to red, And in the autumn purple violets blow,
And the slim crocus stirs the winter snow.
Wherefore yon leafless trees will bloom again, And this grey land grow green with summer rain,
And send up cowslips for some boy to mow.
But what of life whose bitter hungry sea Flows at our heels, and gloom of sunless night
Covers the days which nevermore return?
Ambition, love, and all the thoughts that burn We lose too soon, and only find delight
In withered husks of some dead memory.
End of poem.
This recording is in the public domain.
Des Espoirs, by Oscar Wilde, read for liverbox.org by Slatebrick.
The seasons send their ruin as they go, For in the spring the Narcissus shows its head,
Nor withers till the rose has flamed to red, And in the autumn purple violets blow,
And the slim crocus stirs the winter snow.
Wherefore yon leafless trees will bloom again, And this grey land grow green with summer rain,
And send up cowslips for some boy to mow.
But what of life whose bitter hungry sea Flows at our heels, and gloom of sunless night
Covers the days which nevermore return?
Ambition, love, and all the thoughts that burn We lose too soon, and only find delight
In withered husks of some dead memory.
End of poem.
This recording is in the public domain.
Des Espoirs, by Oscar Wilde, read for liverbox.org by Stacy M.
The seasons send their ruin as they go, For in the spring the Narcissus shows its head,
Nor withers till the rose has flamed to red, And in the autumn purple violets blow,
And the slim crocus stirs the winter snow.
Wherefore yon leafless trees will bloom again, And this grey land grow green with summer rain,
And send up cowslips for some boy to mow.
But what of life whose bitter hungry sea Flows at our heels, and gloom of sunless night
Covers the days which nevermore return?
Ambition, love, and all the thoughts that burn We lose too soon, and only find delight
In withered husks of some dead memory.
End of poem.
This recording is in the public domain.
Des Espoirs, by Oscar Wilde, read for liverbox.org by Shrimpfish
The seasons send their ruin as they go, For in the spring the Narcissus shows its head,
Nor withers till the rose has flamed to red, And in the autumn purple violets blow,
And the slim crocus stirs the winter snow.
Wherefore yon leafless trees will bloom again, And this grey land grow green with summer rain,
And send up cowslips for some boy to mow.
But what of life whose bitter hungry sea Flows at our heels, and gloom of sunless night
Covers the days which nevermore return?
Ambition, love, and all the thoughts that burn We lose too soon, and only find delight
In withered husks of some dead memory.
End of poem.
This recording is in the public domain.
Des Espoirs, by Oscar Wilde, read for liverbox.org by Underdown
The seasons send their ruin as they go, For in the spring the Narcissus shows its head,
Nor withers till the rose has flamed to red, And in the autumn purple violets blow,
And the slim crocus stirs the winter snow.
Wherefore yon leafless trees will bloom again, And this grey land grow green with summer rain,
And send up cowslips for some boy to mow.
But what of life whose bitter hungry sea Flows at our heels, and gloom of sunless night
Covers the days which nevermore return?
Ambition, love, and all the thoughts that burn We lose too soon, and only find delight
In withered husks of some dead memory.
End of poem.
This recording is in the public domain.