The Empty House

Poem by Charles-Nérée Beauchemin Collection Patrie intimePeriod 19th century

Little low house, with the big pointed hat,
That, from winter to winter, seems to have sunk
Into the flowerless earth heaped around it.
Little gray house, with the big pointed hat,
In the blue distance, over there, tell me, what do you see?

Through the blinking eyes of your russet dormer,
To see clearer, farther, you seem to make an effort,
And to frown your brows beneath your hat of moss.
Toward those dreamy sunsets where the sun falls asleep,
To see clearer, farther, you seem to make an effort.

He lies asleep, over there, at the back of the cemetery,
The one who still loves you as much as you loved him.
Little old house, with the hat of dust,
The one who still loves you as much as you loved him,
The absent one, so deeply mourned, will never come back.

Charles-Nérée Beauchemin

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