7.2.2013 – Victor Hugo “Dusk”

Dusk

 The pool glimmers white, like a mystical shroud;

In the depths of the woodland are glimpses of glades

The boles are a shadow, the branches a cloud;

Is it Venus that shimmers through leafy arcades?

 

Is it Venus that silvers the slopes with her light?

            And you, are you lovers that pass in the gloom?

With a sheen of soft lawn the dusk pathways are white;

            The meadow awakens the calls to the tomb.

 

What song form the grass and what voice from the grave?

            Night comes: The are cold that sleep under the yews.

Let lip cling to lip! Seek love, hearts that crave!

            Let the living be glad while we slumber and muse.

 

God smiles on the loves. Live, envied and blest,

            O couples that pass on your leaf-covered way!

The love we bore with us to earth’s chilly breast,

            From the land of the living , is left us to pray.

 

The thatch looming black hides a hearth that is bright;

            The tread of the reaper is heard in the field;

A star from the blue, like a blossom of light,

            Bursts forth in the freshness of splendour revealed.

 

‘Tis the month of ripe berries, the month of sweet things.

            Night’s angel floats dreaming on winds overhead,

And blends, borne aloft on his shadowy wings,

            The kiss of the living, the prayer of the dead.

 

                                                            Crepuscule.

                                                                        (les Contemplations)