And a poem, for Memorial Day
May. 27th, 2013 12:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
osprey_archerAnother poem from French class.
Tomorrow, at dawn
by Victor Hugo
Tomorrow, at dawn, at the hour when the countryside whitens
I will leave. You see, I know that you are waiting for me.
I will go through the forest, I will go by the mountain.
I cannot remain far from you any longer.
I will go, my eyes fixed on my thoughts,
without seeing anything outside of myself, without hearing any sound,
alone, unknown, my back bent, my hands crossed,
sad, and the day for me will be like the night.
I will look at neither the gold of the evening that falls,
nor the mist that descends toward Harfleur,
and when I will arrive, I will put on your tomb
a bouquet of green holly and heather in bloom.
The poem is not just a flight of fancy: Hugo wrote it when his daughter Leopoldine drowned with her husband in a boating accident, in 1847.
Tomorrow, at dawn
by Victor Hugo
Tomorrow, at dawn, at the hour when the countryside whitens
I will leave. You see, I know that you are waiting for me.
I will go through the forest, I will go by the mountain.
I cannot remain far from you any longer.
I will go, my eyes fixed on my thoughts,
without seeing anything outside of myself, without hearing any sound,
alone, unknown, my back bent, my hands crossed,
sad, and the day for me will be like the night.
I will look at neither the gold of the evening that falls,
nor the mist that descends toward Harfleur,
and when I will arrive, I will put on your tomb
a bouquet of green holly and heather in bloom.
The poem is not just a flight of fancy: Hugo wrote it when his daughter Leopoldine drowned with her husband in a boating accident, in 1847.
