Français
Español
Italiano
Deutsch
Português
Hail! woods crowned with a remnant of green!
Yellowing leaves on the scattered lawns!
Hail, last fair days! The mourning of nature
Suits sorrow and pleases my eyes!
With a dreamy step I follow the lonely path,
I love to see again, for the last time,
This fading sun, whose faint light
Scarcely pierces at my feet the darkness of the woods!
Yes, in these autumn days when nature is dying,
In its veiled gaze I find more charm,
It is a friend’s farewell, it is the last smile
Of lips that death will close forever!
Thus, ready to leave the horizon of life,
Weeping for my long days the vanished hope,
I turn back once more, and with a look of envy
I contemplate its goods that I have not enjoyed!
Earth, sun, valleys, fair and gentle nature,
I owe you a tear at the edge of my tomb;
The air is so fragrant! the light is so pure!
To a dying man’s eyes the sun is so beautiful!
I would now drain to the dregs
This chalice mixed with nectar and gall!
At the bottom of this cup where I drank life,
Perhaps a drop of honey remained?
Perhaps the future still kept for me
A return of happiness whose hope is lost?
Perhaps in the crowd, a soul I do not know
Would have understood my soul, and answered me? …
The flower falls, giving its perfumes to the zephyr;
To life, to the sun, these are its farewells;
I, I die; and my soul, at the moment it expires,
Exhales like a sad and melodious sound.
Alphonse de Lamartine
Translation generated by Poésies 123 with assistance from the deepseek-chat artificial-intelligence model.
Text published on Poésies 123: https://www.poesies123.com/en/poem-the-autumn-alphonse-de-lamartine/