Song of autumn

Soon we shall plunge into the cold darkness

Farewell, sharp brightness of our too short summers!

I already hear the firewood falling

With a mournful crash onto the paved courtyards.

I tremble as I hear each log falling;

a scaffold being built does not echo more hollowly.

My mind is like a tower that tumbles

When struck by a tireless heavy battering-ram.

It seems to me, rocked by this monotonous thudding,

As if somewhere a coffin is being hastily hammered.

For whom? Yesterday it was summer; now it's autumn!

This mysterious noise sounds like a departure!

I love the greenish light of your long eyes,

O gentle beauty. But today I find everything bitter!

Nothing, neither your love, nor the boudoir nor the hearth

Means as much to me as the sun beaming on the sea!