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| Village at Winter at Midnight Jacob van Ruisdael |
"Be Off!"
by Victor Hugo
"Be off!" say Winter's snows;
"Now it's my turn to sing!"
So, startled, quivering,
Not daring to oppose
(Our fortitude grows dim in
The face of a Quos ego),
Away, my songs, must we go
Before those virile women!
Rain. We are forced to fly,
Everywhere, utterly.
End of the comedy.
Come, swallows, it's good-bye.
Wind, sleet. The branches sway,
Writhing their stunted limbs,
And off the white smoke swims
Across the heavens' gray.
A pallid yellow lingers
Over the chilly dale.
My keyhole blows a gale
Onto my frozen fingers.
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