The Drawn Heart, Smiled At Me With Sap Tears
The wild hair of the trees
lay down on the ground.
Others burn up in a blue smoke.
The severed branches in small heaps.
I saw, in the middle of the sawdust,
The pieces of the great plane tree,
Where we carved our names.
The drawn heart, smiled at me,
Even with its sap tears,
the wounded sapwood
a kind of last farewell.
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RC
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La chevelure sauvage des arbres
s'est couchée sur le sol.
D'autres se consument
en fumées bleues.
Les branches sectionnées en petit tas.
J'ai vu, au milieu de la sciure,
Les billots du grand platane,
Où nous avions gravés nos noms.
Le cœur dessiné, me souriait,
Même avec ses larmes de sève,
d'aubier blessé,
en une sorte de dernier adieu.
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