Orchard
In the garden, sweet carnation and spices,
When dawn has wet bushy thyme,
And the Hornets heavy, hanging tomato,
falter, dew and sap filled,
I will come under the blue and mist floating
Drunk time of day and found alive,
My heart will rise as the cock crowing
Insatiably to sunrise.
The hot air is over the milky green
On the generous effort and careful planting,
On the bright salad and boxwood borders,
On pod which inflates and opens to a half
The plowed soil where the seeds ripen
Wave, cheerful and sweet, small waves,
happy to feel his flesh underground
The fate of the vine and wheat paddock.
nectarines scorch their leaves, glued
the wall where the sun warmly crashes;
The light will fill the narrow alleys
On whom the shadow of the flowers is like a garment .
taste hatching and things juicy
Montera wet squash and melon,
Midi will burn the grass silent
The day will be quiet long and inexhaustible.
And the house, with its slate roof,
Leaving the door open shutters and dark,
Breathing the smell of quince and raspberry
heavily scattered around the green bush ;
My heart, indifferent and gentle slope will
foliage and flexible flat beans
On that night the water settles and And winds
flows without disturbing his rest and his dream.
I am finally free of fear and bitterness
Lasse like a garden on which it rained,
Quiet as the pond that glows in the dawn and smokes,
I no longer suffer, I will not think,
I know nothing of the things of this world,
Sentences of my life and my nation, I will listen
sing in my deep soul
The harmonious peace germination.
I will not have pride, and I'm like,
In my candor and my new simplicity
the vine in my brother and my sister currant
Who are the kind of summer enjoyment ,
I'm so sensitive and attached to land
I could think to have experienced the death
And meddle, alive, based on mystery
Who feeds the plants and flowers by bodies.
And it will be very good and very fair to believe
That my eyes are so undulating like flax,
And my heart, strong and heavy, this pear is
Who slowly ripens its skin in the sun ...
Anna de Noailles
1876-1933
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