1 minute read
À l'aurore… At dawn
AT BREAK OF DAWN ...
AT Break of Dawn, before the heat, The tenderness of the colour Only just scattered on the world Surprises and wounds the sorrow.
Advertisement
O Night, through which I have suffered, Suffer this smile of the heavens And this immense flower offered On the brow of a gracious day.
Great offering of such roses, What evil might you not withstand And see reddening of such things With their promises returning?
I have seen so many false dreams In my darkness without slumber That I range between the untruths Which have the same force as the sun,
Which I doubt of as I receive With distaste, or with desire, This very young day on the leaf Whose virginal gold might be grasped.
