[Initially intended as a triolet.]
Dans le froid crépuscule naguère
cher à mon cœur, je vis poindre
la chouette d'argent, bec et serres
affutés comme des lances de fer:
Pallas toute parée pour la guerre!
Je sus que venait de s’éteindre
l’Espoir dans l’éternel hiver.
[In the cold evening erstwhile
dear to my heart, I saw the silver owl
come up, beak and talons
sharp as iron lances:
Pallas all decked for war!
I knew that Hope had just expired
in the eternal winter.]
Email this!
I'm reading: 365 Resolutions & Counting: #5. Try a New Style of Poetry in FrenchTweet this!
Share on Facebook
Conjured by
Etienne D.
on Friday, January 06, 2012
at
1:34 AM
Complaining about
lost gods,
poetry,
resolutions
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)




0 elucidations:
Post a Comment