Song of Autumn II

 I love the greenish light of your long eyes,

Sweet beauty, but today all to me is bitter;

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

Is worth as much as the sunlight on the sea.

Yet, love me, tender heart! be a mother,

Even to an ingrate, even to a scapegrace;

Mistress or sister, be the fleeting sweetness

Of a gorgeous autumn or of a setting sun.

Short task! The tomb awaits; it is avid!

Ah! let me, with my head bowed on your knees,

Taste the sweet, yellow rays of the end of autumn,

While I mourn for the white, torrid summer!