Posts filed under ‘.flowers’
Enchanted Flowers
She is a flower in the wind.
Her bloom is gone.
The wind must take her petals
one by one.
She brought joys to beholders,
stinging pain to intruders.
Lean stalk of a stem,
the wind once proud of her
now wails in and about her.
The seer cannot see herself.
Dying is the wind’s full grief.
Gentil Coquelicot
J’ai descendu dans mon jardin (bis)
Pour y cueillir du romarin.
Gentil coquelicot, Mesdames,
Gentil coquelicot, nouveau.J’n’en avais pas cueilli trois brins (bis)
Qu’un rossignol vint sur ma main
Gentil coquelicot, Mesdames,
Gentil coquelicot, nouveau.Qu’un rossignol vint sur ma main (bis)
Il me dit trois mots en latin
Gentil coquelicot, Mesdames,
Gentil coquelicot, nouveau.Il me dit trois mots en latin (bis)
Que les hommes ne valent rien
Gentil coquelicot, Mesdames,
Gentil coquelicot, nouveau.Que les hommes ne valent rien (bis)
Et les garçons encore bien moins !
Gentil coquelicot, Mesdames,
Gentil coquelicot, nouveau.Et les garçons encore bien moins !
Des dames, il ne me dit rien
Mais des d’moiselles beaucoup de bien
Gentil coquelicot, Mesdames,
Gentil coquelicot, nouveau.
Snowdrops
by Mary Vivian
I like to think
That, long ago,
There fell to earth
Some flakes of snow
Which loved this cold,
Grey world of ours
So much, they stayed
As snowdrop flowers.
To a Snowdrop
Lone flower, hemmed in with snows, and white as they
But hardier far, once more I see thee bend
Thy forehead as if fearful to offend,
Like an unbidden guest. Though day by day
Storms sallying from the mountain-tops, waylay
The rising sun, and on the plains descend;
et art though welcome, welcome as a friend
Whose zeal outruns his promise! Blue-eyed May
Shall soon behold this border thickly set
With bright jonquils, their odours lavishing
On the soft west-wind and his frolic peers;
Nor will I then thy modest grace forget,
Chaste snowdrop, venturous harbinger of spring,
And pensive monitor of fleeting years.
Ode À Cassandre
Mignonne, allons voir si la rose
Qui ce matin avoit déclose
Sa robe de pourpre au Soleil,
A point perdu cette vesprée
Les plis de sa robe pourprée,
Et son teint au vôtre pareil.
Las ! voyez comme en peu d’espace,
Mignonne, elle a dessus la place
Las ! las ses beautés laissé choir!
Ô vraiment marâtre Nature,
Puis qu’une telle fleur ne dure
Que du matin jusques au soir!Donc, si vous me croyez, mignonne,
Tandis que votre âge fleuronne
En sa plus verte nouveauté,
Cueillez, cueillez vôtre jeunesse :
Comme à cette fleur la vieillesse
Fera ternir votre beauté.
.en translation
Sweetheart, let’s see if the rose
That this morning had open
Her crimson dress to the Sun,
This evening hasn’t lost
The folds of her crimson dress,
And her complexion similar to yours.Ah! See how in such short space
My sweetheart, she has on this very spot
All her beauties lost!
O, so un-motherly Nature,
Since such a beautiful flower
Only last from dawn to dusk!So if you believe me, my sweetheart,
While time still flowers for you,
In its freshest novelty,
Do take advantage of your youthful bloom:
As it did to this flower, the doom
Of age will blight your beauty.
