Cahier d’Yves Bonnefoy
The Shadows Stir
On a moss-stained
stone, the shadows stir.
Like dancing nymphs,
one might say.
And when a bit of sun
glints off their hair,
it gleams like gold
in a blackened forge.
Life will end.
Life will remain.
Like a child who plays
with too many dreams.
Translated from French by Paul Weinfield, © 2016
No comments:
Post a Comment