Open Windows, poem by Victor Hugo

Poem by Victor Hugo Collection The Art of Being a GrandfatherThemes DreamsPeriod 19th century

Morning — While sleeping

I hear voices. Gleams through my eyelid.
A bell is ringing at Saint Peter’s Church.
Cries of bathers. Closer! Farther! No, over here!
No, over there! Birds chirp, Jeanne too.
Georges calls her. Crowing of roosters. A trowel
Scrapes a roof. Horses pass in the alley.
Creaking of a scythe cutting the grass.
Thuds. Murmurs. Roofers walk on the house.
Sounds of the port. Whistling of heated machines.
Military music arriving in bursts.
Hubbub on the quay. French voices. Thank you.
Hello. Goodbye. No doubt it’s late, for here
Comes near me to sing my robin.
Din of distant hammers in a forge.
Water lapping. One hears a steamer panting.
A fly enters. Immense breath of the sea.

Victor Hugo

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

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