On The Water

Poem By Rene Francois Armand Prudhomme

The sound of bank and water is all I hear,
The sad resignation of a weeping spring
Or a rock that hourly sheds a tear,
And the birch leaves' vague quivering.

I do not see the river bear the boat along
The flowering shore flits past, and I remain;
And in the watery depths that I skim,
The reflected blue sky flutters like a curtain.

Meandering in their sleep, you might say the waters
Waver, no longer sure where the bank lies:
And the flower thrown in hesitates to choose.
And like this flower, all that man desires
Can settle on the river of my life,
Without teaching me which way my wishes lie.

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Other poems of RENE FRANCOIS ARMAND PRUDHOMME

At The Water's Edge

To sit and watch the wavelets as they flow
Two - side by side;
To see the gliding clouds that come and
And mark them glide;

Aux Poètes Futurs

POÈTES à venir, qui saurez tant de choses,
Et les direz sans doute en un verbe plus beau,
Portant plus loin que nous un plus large flambeau

Cradles

Along the quay, the great ships,
that ride the swell in silence,
take no notice of the cradles.
that the hands of the women rock.

Never To See Or Hear Her

Never to see or hear her,
never to name her aloud,
but faithfully always to wait for her
and love her.

Music For The Dying

Ye who will help me in my dying pain,
Speak not a word: let all your voices cease.
Let me but hear some soft harmonious strain,