Writing a poem about the end of a glorious,
multi-colored season has afforded me the opportunity to see the world through a different lens. While desiring the return of glowing days of bright, painted scenes and thoughts flowing as gently as the leaves, I know that there comes a time when one season turns over to the next. The snowy landscape seen in
Albany last week, pushed my thoughts not to sadness but hopefulness to what nature, the
brilliant artist, has in store.
The image below signals a time for recollection.
I tried to establish a positive voice for fall as it bids us adieu.
While not ready to showcase the Finding Fall
Gallery yet, my hope is to
offer an unveiling of the collection as my
Christmas gift.
In addition to the above poem, I searched poetry galleries for an end to autumn poem that would contrast mine. I was delighted to find a
lyrical poem, Chanson de l’Automne by
Paul Verlaine in 1866. It is written in French with an English translation by
Arthur Symons in Poems (First Collected Edition, 1902). Paired with this poem
is a reading by Marlene Dietrich in French that you can access here.
Des violons
De l’automne
Blessent mon coeur
D’une langueurTout suffocant
Et blême, quand
Sonne l’heure,
Je me souviens
Des jours anciens
Et je pleure
Et je m’en vais
Au vent mauvais
Qui m’emporte
Deçà, delà,
Pareil à la
Feuille morte.
When a sighing begins
In the violins
Of the autumn-song,
My heart is drowned.
In the slow soundLanguorous and long.
Pale as with pain,
Breath fails me when
The hours toll deep.
My thoughts recover
The days that are over,
And I weep.
And I go
Where the winds know,
Broken and brief,
To and fro,
As the winds blow
A dead leaf.
I found an interesting interpretation of the poem with a fascinating piece of background knowledge. Go here to access it.
Paul is kind enough to leave a spot for my late post since I was at a state curriculum conference this past week.
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