| CHANSON D'AUTOMNE | AUTUMN SONG |
| Paul Verlaine | trans. Peter Dale |
|
Les sanglots longs Des violons De l'automne Blessent mon coeur D'une langueur Monotone. Tout suffocant Et blême, quand Sonne l'heure, Je me souviens Des jours anciens Et je pleure; Et je m'en vais Au vent mauvais Qui m'emporte Deçà, delà, Pareil à la Feuille morte. |
The violins of autumn, Their long sobs brought on, In their plangor Wound my heart As they impart A humdrum languor Stifling and wan When the hour comes on And strikes deep, Memories raise The old days And I weep. And I go away, On an ill wind stray Carried adrift, Hither and thither; Comparing with the Dead leaf shift. |
Click here 2 for another translation of this poem.
Trans. Copyright © Peter Dale 2006