Spring Night

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

The sky is pure, the moon is without cloud:
Already night into the chalice of the flowers
Pours the pearl and the amber of its tears;
No zephyr stirs the foliage.
Beneath an arbor, calmly seated,
Where the lilac floats and hangs above my head,
I feel my refreshed thoughts flow
In the perfumes that nature prepares.
From the woods whose shadow, on these whitening meadows,
Slowly takes shape and rests,
Two nightingales, jealous of their strains,
Will in turn awaken the spring
That was slumbering beneath these rose bushes.
Melodious, solitary Ségrais,
You carry your peace all the way to my heart!
Across the meadows too, passing through the silence,
I hear in the distance, toward that laughing dwelling,
The voice of the dog that growls and watches around
The humble roof where innocence dwells.
But what! already, beautiful night, I am losing you!
Among the skies half-opened at dawn,
Phoebe has only dying lights left,
And the zephyr, skimming the orchard,
From the east, with a light sound,
Comes to rest on these trembling stems.

Chateaubriand

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