Autumn Night, Poem by François-René de Chateaubriand

Poem by François-René De Chateaubriand Collection Nature PaintingsThemes NaturePeriod 18th century

But let us taste the sweetnesses
Of autumn nights;
May Pomona succeed
The lovely flowers.
The pale setting sun
Scarcely shines still;
The star of Venus, which it leads,
Is sinking;
The moon, carried
Toward other climes,
Will not show
Her silvered face.
From these poplars,
Along the paths,
The zephyrs descend,
Spread through the air,
Graze the waters,
And from these elms
Revive the sap:
Like a vapor,
The gentle coolness
Of these woods rises.
Beneath these green trees,
That a fresh wind sways,
I hear in silence
Their light concerts:
Gently cradled,
The pressed vault
In a proud dome
Tightens its shade,
And then half-opening,
From the sky slowly
Reveals the image.
There, the azure of nights
In a pure crystal
Unrolls its veils.
And the shining wave
Flows while sleeping
On a bed of stars.
Oh! new charm!
The sound of the pipe
In the air unfolds,
And from the depths of the woods
Brings me at once
Love and joy.
Near the clear streams,
At Adèle’s thatched cottage
The faithful shepherd
Modulates his airs.
Now he sighs,
Now he desires;
Falls silent: in turn
His simple cadence
Portrays to me his love
And his innocence.
In her happy bed
The poor attentive girl
Listens, pensive,
To these dangerous sounds:
The sheet that covers her
Has rolled far from her,
And her troubled eye
Gently half-opens.
Wholly to the sound
That during the night
Charms and accuses her,
Adèle to the victor
Refuses her confession
And gives her heart.

Chateaubriand

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