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October round the corner
- Thread starter pornoboy
- Start date
Essex Boy
Recovering JUB Addict
Brush up your French.
Chant d'automne
Charles Baudelaire
Bientôt nous plongerons dans les froides ténèbres;
Adieu, vive clarté de nos étés trop courts!
J'entends déjà tomber avec des chocs funèbres
Le bois retentissant sur le pavé des cours.
Tout l'hiver va rentrer dans mon être: colère,
Haine, frissons, horreur, labeur dur et forcé,
Et, comme le soleil dans son enfer polaire,
Mon coeur ne sera plus qu'un bloc rouge et glacé.
J'écoute en frémissant chaque bûche qui tombe;
L'échafaud qu'on bâtit n'a pas d'écho plus sourd.
Mon esprit est pareil à la tour qui succombe
Sous les coups du bélier infatigable et lourd.
II me semble, bercé par ce choc monotone,
Qu'on cloue en grande hâte un cercueil quelque part.
Pour qui? — C'était hier l'été; voici l'automne!
Ce bruit mystérieux sonne comme un départ.
Soon we will be plunged into the cold shadows;
Farewell to the vivid brightness of our too-short summers!
I hear already the dreary sound of firewood being chopped
And clattering on the flagstones in the courtyards.
The whole winter is about to take over my being: anger,
Hatred, horror, shivering, heavy labour,
And, like the sun in its polar hell,
My heart will be nothing more than icy red block.
I hear with a shudder each log as it falls;
A scaffold being built would not make such a dull echo.
My spirit is like the tower which succumbs
To the tireless, heavy blows of the battering ram.
It seems to me, lulled by this monotonous clanging,
As if someone, somewhere, were hastily nailing together a coffin.
For whom? — Yesterday it was summer; now it's autumn!
This mysterious noise rings out like a passing-bell.
Charles Baudelaire
Bientôt nous plongerons dans les froides ténèbres;
Adieu, vive clarté de nos étés trop courts!
J'entends déjà tomber avec des chocs funèbres
Le bois retentissant sur le pavé des cours.
Tout l'hiver va rentrer dans mon être: colère,
Haine, frissons, horreur, labeur dur et forcé,
Et, comme le soleil dans son enfer polaire,
Mon coeur ne sera plus qu'un bloc rouge et glacé.
J'écoute en frémissant chaque bûche qui tombe;
L'échafaud qu'on bâtit n'a pas d'écho plus sourd.
Mon esprit est pareil à la tour qui succombe
Sous les coups du bélier infatigable et lourd.
II me semble, bercé par ce choc monotone,
Qu'on cloue en grande hâte un cercueil quelque part.
Pour qui? — C'était hier l'été; voici l'automne!
Ce bruit mystérieux sonne comme un départ.
Soon we will be plunged into the cold shadows;
Farewell to the vivid brightness of our too-short summers!
I hear already the dreary sound of firewood being chopped
And clattering on the flagstones in the courtyards.
The whole winter is about to take over my being: anger,
Hatred, horror, shivering, heavy labour,
And, like the sun in its polar hell,
My heart will be nothing more than icy red block.
I hear with a shudder each log as it falls;
A scaffold being built would not make such a dull echo.
My spirit is like the tower which succumbs
To the tireless, heavy blows of the battering ram.
It seems to me, lulled by this monotonous clanging,
As if someone, somewhere, were hastily nailing together a coffin.
For whom? — Yesterday it was summer; now it's autumn!
This mysterious noise rings out like a passing-bell.
- Joined
- Dec 4, 2006
- Posts
- 118,346
- Reaction score
- 28,173
- Points
- 113
I really feel it today when I was out mowing...the bees are busy gurgling at the barrels of sugar water put out for them now that the honey has been gathered, the graas is green and very lush in the sunlit areas but slowing down around the trees....The leaves are definitely falling and the squrbls are removing all the chestnuts now that they've stipped the walnuts bare.
The garden is very much at the end, time to pull the last of the leeks and start clearing the tomato vines and spoiled last of the fruit.
But warm and sunny and with Michaelmas daisies exploding all over.
The garden is very much at the end, time to pull the last of the leeks and start clearing the tomato vines and spoiled last of the fruit.
But warm and sunny and with Michaelmas daisies exploding all over.
LeicsDom
JUB Addict
Spring and autumn are my favourite times of year, not too hot and not too cold
P
peeonme
Guest
I will be mowing grass until mid Oct., but it's gone bi- weekly for most accounts already. Then in Nov. it will be a month of leaf clean ups. It was a hot summer, spent many days working in 90 degree plus temps.
smokeshadow
JUB Addict
a fascinating haunted house for your perusal 
smokeshadow
JUB Addict
Thad1527
Uncharted
Is that bottle of Molson Export still capped?
I'll be right over.
I'll be right over.
