GAGNE-PETITSMOKED GLASS
Charles Crostrans. James Kirkup
Il a tout fait, tous les métiers. Sa simple vie
Se passe loin du bruit, loin des cris de l'envie
Et des ambitions vaines du boulevard.
Pour ce jour attendu, qui s'annonce blafard,
Les savants ont prédit, avant l'heure où se couche
Le soleil, une éclipse. Et sa maîtresse accouche,
Apportant un enfant parmi tant de soucis!
Il compte, pour dîner, sur ses verres noircis.
Carrières de Montmartre, en vos antres de gypse,
Abritez le marchand de verres pour éclipse!
He's done everything, all the jobs. His simple life
Goes on, far from the noise, far from the shouts of envy
And the vain ambitions of the boulevard.
For this long-awaited day, that promises thick cloud,
Learned astronomers have predicted, at a time
Before the sun begins to set an eclipse. And his woman's pregnant,
Bringing a child among so many worries!
For their dinner he's depending on his smoked glass.
Quarries of Montmartre, in your caverns of gypsum,
Shelter this seller of smoked glass for the eclipse!

Trans. copyright © James Kirkup 2002


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