The Nocturnal Wind

Poem by Guillaume Apollinaire Collection AlcoolsThemes Nature, WeatherPeriod 20th century

Oh! the pine tops creak as they clash together
And one hears also the autan wind lament
And from the nearby river with loud triumphal voices
The elves laugh at the wind or horn at the squalls
Attys Attys Attys charming and disheveled
It is your name that in the night the elves mocked
Because one of your pines falls to the gothic wind
The forest flees into the distance like an ancient army
Whose lances oh pines stir at the turn
The extinguished villages now meditate
Like virgins the old men and the poets
And will not awaken at the step of any comer
Nor when the lammergeiers swoop down upon their pigeons

Guillaume Apollinaire

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