The Cousin

Poem by Gérard De Nerval Period 19th century

Winter has its pleasures; and often, on a Sunday,
When a little sunshine turns the white earth yellow,
One goes out walking with a cousin…
– And don’t make yourselves late for dinner,

Says the mother. And when one has, at the Tuileries,
Seen beneath the black trees the flowered dresses,
The young girl grows cold… and has you observe
That the evening fog is beginning to rise.

And one comes home, speaking of the fine day one regrets,
That passed so quickly… and of discreet flame:
And one smells on returning, with a great appetite,
From the bottom of the stairway, – the turkey roasting.

Gérard de Nerval

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