With long sobs
the violin-throbs
of autumn wound
my heart with languorous
and montonous
sound.
Choking and pale
When I mind the tale
the hours keep,
my memory strays
down other days
and I weep;
and I let me go
where ill winds blow
now here, now there,
harried and sped,
even as a dead
leaf, anywhere.
FRENCH
Les sanglots longs
Des violons
De l'automne
Blessent mon cœur
D'une langueur
Monotone.
Tout 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
De çà, de là,
Pareil à la
Feuille morte...
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Comments
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I believe the first stz. of this poem was used in WWII as the radio code that the allies had taken back France. Can anyone confirm/deny?
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for Perdu
Please take time to read the biography of this poet. Reading the whole bio will give you information regarding the Code/Poem used during WWII.
Von ~ Oldpoetry
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This version has a soft pace to it. Another translation of this poem:
Long sobs
Violins
Autumn
Wound my heart
Of a monotonous languor.
Very suffocating
And pale, when
sound the hour,
I remember
Old Days
And I cry;
And I from go away
With the bad wind
Who carries me
On this side, beyond,
Similar with
Break into leaf dead.
Although this translation is a bit choppy, it offers a haiku effect. Often, with translated poems,it is so worth it to seek out various versions and just have fun measuring your reactions to them. To me, it just adds another interesting layer to the enjoyment of poetry. -
i lke this poem it is very touching to the scences
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