The clock strikes Seven and it is dark

Song of Autumn

Paul Verlaine

Les sanglots longs
Des violons
De l’automne
Blessent mon coeur
D’une langueur
Monotone.

~

Tout suffocant
Et blême, quand
Sonne l’heure.
Je me souviens
Des jours anciens,
Et je pleure.

~

Et je m’en vais
Au vent mauvais
Qui m’emporte
De çà, de là,
Pareil à la
Feuille morte.

The long sobs
of autumn’s
violins
wound my heart
with a monotonous
languor.

~

Suffocating
and pallid, when
the clock strikes,
I remember
the days long past
and I weep.

~

And I set off
in the rough wind
that carries me
hither and thither
like a dead
leaf.

Chanson d’automne par Paul Verlaine

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