18 oct.
„Autumn” de Thomas Hood
| The autumn skies are flushed with gold, And fair and bright the rivers run; These are but streams of winter cold, And painted mists that quench the sun. |
De aur ud e-al Toamnei cer, Şi aleargă gârle lucitoare; Dar ele-aduc iernatic ger Şi ceţi ce tabără spre soare. |
| In secret boughs no sweet birds sing, In secret boughs no bird can shroud; These are but leaves that take to wing, And wintry winds that pipe so loud. |
Prin crângul tainic sturzi nu sunt, Prin cârnguri sturzul nu se-aude; Ci frunze-s doar, zburând pe vânt, Şi zvon de vijelii zălude. |
| ‘Tis not trees’ shade, but cloudy glooms That on the cheerless valleys fall; The flowers are in their grassy tombs, And tears of dew are on them all. |
Sub pomi nu-i umbră, pâcle-s doar, Ce cad pe văile-ntristate; Flori zac pe fânul funerar, Şi-i rouă – lacrimi – peste toate. |
| Thomas Hood | traducere de Tudor Dorin |