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  • This is an autumn poem by Paul Verlaine. I have done a modest translation in English and append it
    below. Try
    reading it aloud in French


    Les sanglots longs
    Des violons
    De l'automne
    Blessent mon cœur
    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
    Deçà, delà,
    Pareil à la
    Feuille morte.




    The maudlin strains
    Of the violins
    Of autumn
    Tear at my heart
    With a languorous
    Monotony

    Choking
    And ashen
    When the knell sounds
    I remember
    Days gone by
    And I cry

    And I am tossed
    By the ferocious winds
    Here, there, up, everywhere
    Like a dead leaf




    Photo: An autumn photo taken at The Royal Botanical Gardens of Edinburgh.
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