Monday, February 25, 2013

Henri Barbusse (1873-1935) - The Sempstress

On the rain a glint of day ...
The blue and yellow sun
Pours on the suburbs one
Beam through the shower's gray.

In the workshop stingy of light
Sewing she sits in the gloom,
But she feels, beyond the room,
The rainbow growing bright.

And when it shines without limit
On the houses dazzled by
The rain's sweet rays, a shy
Song she hums to hymn it,

Chanting Time's vast expanse,
The Future vague and bland ...
Her eyes smile on her hand,
She believes in her romance.

And in beauty that amazes,
And peace for the human race,
She feels herself beyond space,
Her lips to the light she raises.

Workshop whistles are blown.
Home, with the evening's crape
Around her wistful shape,
Singing she goes to her own.

Threading by carriage and cart
The listless wayfarers loud,
She is alone in the crowd,
Because of the song in her heart.

Full of impossible things,
Home to her simple repast,
Wildered with eyes downcast,
While the music hid in her sings.

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