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{{Style P-Poem|poem=Dieu me dounerait-il sa plus belle etoile, | |||
J’aime miens l’enfant qu’il m’a donne,|signature=}} | |||
... | |||
{{Style P-Poem|poem=Enfants, voici des bcenfs qui passent; | |||
Cachez vos rouges tabliers,|signature=}} | |||
... | |||
{{Style P-Poem|poem=Lorsquo I'entant parait le cerole qui ratlmire.|signature=}} | |||
... | |||
{{Style P-Poem|poem=Oh! j’ai vu de si pres les foules miserablos. | |||
I have looked so closely on the miserable crowd; | |||
Its license and its insolence, its clamors coarse and loud; | |||
Wretches by civil war to greatness who increased; | |||
On the judge who should himself he tried; the impure priest. | |||
Serving and smirching God, preaching Yes and proving No— | |||
Seen so closely all the vileness man’s beauty hides below; | |||
In good the ill, in truth the lie; in glory’s stately march | |||
Proud empty Nothings strutting on ’neath the triumphal arch: | |||
I've seen so much that bends, that bites, that runs away, | |||
That feeble, now, and old, and worn, it is my choice to stray | |||
Hereafter to the end alone in forest wilds untrod. | |||
There may I bleed and meditate. And even should a god | |||
Once more to bribe me hack to cities offer me | |||
Glory, and youth, and love, and strength, and victory, | |||
It might prove well that I my woodland cave had kept, | |||
For I am not too sure that I might not accept!|signature=}} | |||
... | |||
{{Style P-Poem|poem='Tween us and Heaven as veils and bars, | |||
A peace profound all lit with stars ; | |||
’Tis this God thinks of as He keeps | |||
The poet where the baby sleeps! | |||
“Lætitia Rerum” | |||
L’aragne sur l’eaii fait des ronds; | |||
O.' ciel bleu ! l'ombre est sous la treille | |||
Le jour tremble, et les mousherons | |||
Yiennent vous parler a l'oreille. | |||
Wanders about the hungry bee, | |||
The yellow wasp bestirs him more, | |||
For all the perfume-drinkers, see, | |||
The spring sets out her lavish store. | |||
Behold the bees to banquet pass, | |||
Prinked out with proper etiquette. | |||
The rosebud is a brimming glass; | |||
The lily is a table set. | |||
From flowers as yet that scarce unclose | |||
The gnat quaffs gold in ecstacy, | |||
And in his tavern of a rose | |||
Dead-drunken lies the butterfly !|signature=}} | |||
... | |||
{{Style P-Poem|poem=Sans doute il est tard, car voici | |||
Qne vient tout près de moi chanter mon rouge-garget | |||
Yacarme de inarteaux lointains dans une forge. | |||
L’eau clapote. On entend haleter un steamer. | |||
One mouche entre. Souffle immense de la men|signature=}} | |||
... | |||
{{Style P-Poem|poem=Towards noon | |||
Jean has an amiable habit of sleeping. | |||
Her mother a moment may breathe and repose | |||
For there’s labor in serving if only a rose ; | |||
We watch her, we smile, and our cares vanish all, | |||
She’s a star with the further advantage she’s small. | |||
Tho shadow in love with her seems to adore her. | |||
And the breeze holds its breath as it light passes o’er her. | |||
But, soft! the lids open, out goes one plump arm, | |||
One foot, then the other, and then with such charm | |||
That the angels must bend from the blue heavens to hear | |||
She babbles and coos. Then the mother draws near. | |||
Her accents are music ; she bends o’er the nest. | |||
Seeks what term of endearment will fit it the best. | |||
Her joy, her bud-angel, her “ nightmare !” The mother | |||
Says, “ Oho! you’re awake again, then, Little Bother ! ”|signature=}} | |||
... | |||
{{Style S-HPB SB. Editors note|From “The Moon”, orig: “[https://fr.wikisource.org/wiki/La_Lune_(Hugo) La Lune]”, part II “[http://poesie.webnet.fr/lesgrandsclassiques/poemes/victor_hugo/choses_du_soir.html Choses du soir]”|center}} | |||
{{Style P-Poem|poem=The fog is cold and the copse is gray ; | |||
The steers as they move to the water, low ; | |||
The moon from the black clouds taking way, | |||
A light affright seems to come and go. | |||
Je ne sais plus quand, je ne sais plus où, | |||
Maître Yvon soufflait dans son biniou. | |||
The traveller trudges, the earth is brown. | |||
A shadow chases, a shade leads on. | |||
Light where the sun climbs, white where it goes down. | |||
Moonlight yonder, and hither the dawn. | |||
The sitting sorceress mutters her spell, | |||
To the roof the spider his web binds up; | |||
Glow sprites flash and shake in the fires of the dell | |||
Like pistils of gold in a tulip’s cup. | |||
Up over the sea come the night-fogs white; | |||
Shipwreck is dogging a shivering mast. | |||
Says the wind, “ To-morrow ” the wave, “'To-night ;” | |||
Despairing voices flutter past. | |||
The coach sets out from Avranche for Fougère ; | |||
Its whip in the dusk makes a lightning-flash. | |||
This is the moment when floating in air, | |||
The gloom gathers vast round the murmurs that clash. | |||
In each forest-vista a tire glows. | |||
A graveyard is seen on the mountain-height; | |||
Where does God find all the gloom that He throws | |||
O’er the broken heart and the falling night ? | |||
Silver flakes tremble along the sands ; | |||
The chalky cliff with gold is lined ; | |||
The shepherd the flight of monstrous bands | |||
Of devils follows athwart, the wind. | |||
Each chimney dons a hodden plume ; | |||
With his faggot the woodman hastes to house ; | |||
You hear o'er the rush of the rivulet’s flume | |||
The shiver and moan of the wind-swayed, boughs. | |||
Gaunt wolves, morose, howl in hungry dreams ; | |||
The river races, the clouds have fled ; | |||
Behind the pane the lamp-light gleams | |||
On a little child with a flaxen head. | |||
Je ne sais plus quand, je ne sais plus où, | |||
Maître Yvon soufflait dans son biniou. | |||
… | |||
Peut-être, là-haut, il est, dans l’Ignoré, | |||
Un dieu supérieur aux dieux que nous rêvâmes, | |||
Capable de donner des astres à des âmes.|signature=}} | |||
{{Style P-Poem|poem=“ [https://fr.wikisource.org/wiki/Le_Poème_du_Jardin_des_Plantes Le poeme du Jardin des Plantes] ” | |||
Le comte de Buffon fut bonhomme, il créa | |||
Ce jardin imité d’Évandre et de Rhéa | |||
Et plein d’ours plus savants que ceux de la Sorbonne, | |||
Afin que Jeanne y puisse aller avec sa bonne ; | |||
… | |||
Le bon goût, ce ruisseau, par Nisard, ce concierge, | |||
Livre au singe excessif la forêt, cette vierge, | |||
Et permet à Dupin de ressembler aux chiens. | |||
(Pauvres chiens !)<ref>{{Style S-HPB SB. Editors note|The rest of original verses in French could be found in [https://fr.wikisource.org/wiki/Catégorie:Poèmes_de_Victor_Hugo Wikisource]}}</ref>|signature=}} | |||
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