The French poem Matin d’Octobre by François Coppée (1842-1908) is about an early October morning. You’ll find the original French version with an mp3 here and an English translation below it.
C’est l’heure exquise et matinale
Que rougit un soleil soudain.
À travers la brume automnale
Tombent les feuilles du jardin.
Leur chute est lente. On peut les suivre
Du regard en reconnaissant
Le chêne à sa feuille de cuivre,
L’érable à sa feuille de sang.
Les dernières, les plus rouillées,
Tombent des branches dépouillées :
Mais ce n’est pas l’hiver encor.
Une blonde lumière arrose
La nature, et, dans l’air tout rose,
On croirait qu’il neige de l’or.
It is the exquisite and early hour,
The sudden sunrise reddens the sky.
Through the autumn mist
The garden leaves fall.
Their fall is slow. We can follow them
With our eyes and recognize
The oak by its leaf of copper,
The maple by its leaf of blood.
The last ones, the most rusty
Fall from the bare branches,
But it’s not winter yet.
A fair light sprinkles down on
Nature and in the whole rosy sky
You’d think it was snowing gold.
Translated by Monique Palomares and Lisa Yannucci. Thanks to Monique for the recording!
This article was posted on Wednesday, October 19th, 2011 at 9:06 am and is filed under Autumn, Countries & Cultures, Fall, France, French, French Poems, Holidays Around the World, Languages, Poems, Poems about the Fall, Poetry, Poetry about the Seasons, Poetry about the Weather, Poets, Recordings, Recordings of Poems, Seasonal. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
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