Snow
Ah as snow snowed!
I can not start like that, Nelligan has already said.
My window is a garden of frost
It's beautiful, but he also said.
He stormed all day,
Accidents and pileups on the highways,
My entry must be shoveled,
is less poetic, is not no doubt!
All ponds lie frozen
My soul is black: where did I see? Where am I? Since
Nelligan, times have changed,
iPads, ordis and cellular conversations are
dinners, ham and camembert Between
.
Cry, the birds in February
sinister thrill of things.
February, the shortest month of the year,
And the groundhog did not see his shadow,
In six weeks, spring will come, or not
marmot, snow will melt.
Ah as snow snowed!
I can not start like that, Nelligan has already said.
My window is a garden of frost
It's beautiful, but he also said.
He stormed all day,
Accidents and pileups on the highways,
My entry must be shoveled,
is less poetic, is not no doubt!
All ponds lie frozen
My soul is black: where did I see? Where am I? Since
Nelligan, times have changed,
iPads, ordis and cellular conversations are
dinners, ham and camembert Between
.
Cry, the birds in February
sinister thrill of things.
February, the shortest month of the year,
And the groundhog did not see his shadow,
In six weeks, spring will come, or not
marmot, snow will melt.
WINTER EVENING
Ah! as snow snowed!
My window is a garden of ice.
Ah! as snow snowed! What
that spasm of life
About the pain I, I!
All ponds lie frozen
My soul is black: where did I see? Where am I?
All his hopes lie frozen: I am the new
Norway
Where the skies are gone blond.
Cry, the birds in February
sinister thrill of things
Weep, birds of February
my tears Cry, cry my roses,
To the branches of juniper.
Ah! as snow snowed!
My window is a garden of ice.
Ah! as snow snowed!
What spasm live
About the pain I, I!
(Émile Nelligan 1879-1941)
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