gully good synergy – François Coppée

(english translation below)

François Coppée ( 1842-1908 )

Est-ce que  les oiseaux se cachent pour mourir ?

Le soir, au coin du feu, j’ai pensé bien des fois

A la mort d’un oiseau, quelque part dans les bois.

Pendant les tristes jours d’hiver monotone,

Les pauvres nids déserts, les nids qu’on abandonne,

Se balancent au vent sur un ciel gris de fer.

Oh ! comme les oiseaux doivent mourir l’hiver !

Pourtant, lorsque viendra le temps des violettes,

Nous ne trouverons pas leurs délicats squelettes

Dans le gazon d’avril, où nous irons courir.

Est-ce que les oiseaux se cachent pour mourir ?


the petite death – do the birds hide to die?

(to the Muse of muses, emBeth)

“My beloved singing sang unto me, “Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.’” – Canticles 2.10



at the corner of the fire

i contemplated

the death of a bird

somewhere in the woods

during the sad monotonous days of winter

a poor deserted nest

an abandoned nest

swaying in the wind under an iron grey sky


must all birds die alone amidst snowflakes


when the time of narcissus finally arrives

shall we not find their snowy skeletons

amidst april grasses

`                   where then shall we fly

what  bird is it that buries itself in the snow to die


(is it me that on your snowy breast would die to be reborn)


-translated by chrétien marc valentin

(© 02 juli 2014)

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