Although Already, This Evening, Poem by Emile Verhaeren

Poem by Emile Verhaeren Period 19th century

Although already, this evening
Autumn
Lets on the paths and at the edges,
Like golden hands,
Slow, the leaves fall,
Although already autumn,
This evening, with its arms of wind,
Reaps,
On the fervent rosebushes
The petals and their pallor,
Let us not let anything of our two souls
Fall suddenly with these flowers.

But both of us, around the flames
Of the golden hearth of memory,
But both of us, let us nestle,
Our hands to the fire and our knees.

Against the mourning hidden in the future,
Against time that fixes to every ardor its end,
Against our terror, against ourselves at last,
Let us nestle, near the hearth,
That memory in us makes blaze.

And if autumn burdens
With great swaths of shadow and hovering storms,
The woods, the lawns and the ponds,
May its sorrow at least not alter
The interior garden, calmed,
Where unite, in the light,
The equal steps of our thoughts.

Emile Verhaeren

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