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Title: Ravens
Poet: Nérée Beauchemin (1850-1931)
Collection: The morning blooms (1897).
The black crows with black plumage,
That the autumnal wind chased away,
Returned from their long journey,
Caw in the vernal sky.
The thickets, the gloomy bushes
Await their merry birds:
But, instead of gay virtuosos,
First come the crows.
To charm the bored wood,
These unrivaled dilettantes,
Tonight, through snow and rain,
Will give a great festival.
The dreamers, whose ecstasy is brief,
Await flocks of golden birds;
But, instead of dream birds,
The dark condor arrives.
Mars cries before smiling at us.
Hail falls in the middle of summer.
The man, born for mourning, sighs
And cries before singing.
Neree Beauchemin.
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