In Winter the Earth Weeps, Poem by Victor Hugo

In winter the earth weeps;
The cold sun, pale and soft,
Comes late, and leaves early,
Weary of the rendezvous.

Their idylls are sullen.
– Sun! let us love! – Let us try.
O earth, where then are your roses?
– Star, where then are your rays?

He finds a pretext, hail,
Wind, cloud black or white,
And says: – It is night, my beauty! –
And does so as he leaves;

Like a lover who withdraws
Each day his heart from the knot,
And, no longer knowing what to say,
Goes away as soon as he can.

Victor Hugo

Translation generated by Poésies 123 with assistance from the deepseek-chat artificial-intelligence model.

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