Victor Marie Hugo: Все стихи поэта

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A Sunset

I love the evenings, passionless and fair, I love the evens,

Whether old manor-fronts their ray with golden fulgence leavens,

In numerous leafage bosomed close;

Whether the mist in reefs of fire extend its reaches sheer,

Or a hundred sunbeams splinter in an azure atmosphere

On cloudy archipelagos.

Oh, gaze ye on the firmament! a hundred clouds in motion,

by Victor Marie Hugo

Ecrit au bas d'un crucifix

Vous qui pleurez, venez à ce Dieu, car il pleure.

Vous qui souffrez, venez à lui, car il guérit.

Vous qui tremblez, venez à lui, car il sourit.

Vous qui passez, venez à lui, car il demeure.

by Victor Marie Hugo

Letter

You can see it already: chalks and ochers;

Country crossed with a thousand furrow-lines;

Ground-level rooftops hidden by the shrubbery;

Sporadic haystacks standing on the grass;

Smoky old rooftops tarnishing the landscape;

A river (not Cayster or Ganges, though:

A feeble Norman salt-infested watercourse);

On the right, to the north, bizarre terrain

by Victor Marie Hugo

Nox 1

At the bottom of your thoughts, this is the night you've chosen,

Prince, you must now make an end of things - the night is frozen

Come, get up! for sensing in shadow the smell of a thief

That old dog, Liberty, is growling and baring its teeth.

Though Carlier has chained it, it still continues to bay

You can't wait any longer. It's time now for the prey.

Look, December spreads a fog that's blacker than black

Just as a robber baron from his manor slips out the back.

by Victor Marie Hugo

After The Battle

MY father, hero of benignant mien,

On horseback visited the gory scene,

After the battle as the evening fell,

And took with him a trooper loved right well,

Because of bravery and presence bold.

The field was covered with the dead, all cold,

And shades of night were deepening : came a sound,

Feeble and hoarse, from something on the ground ;

by Victor Marie Hugo

June Nights

In summer, when day has fled, the plain covered with flowers

Pours out far away an intoxicating scent;

Eyes shut, ears half open to noises,

We only half sleep in a transparent slumber.

The stars are purer, the shade seems pleasanter;

A hazy half-day colours the eternal dome;

And the sweet pale dawn awaiting her hour

Seems to wander all night at the bottom of the sky.

by Victor Marie Hugo

The Poor Children

Take heed of this small child of earth;

He is great; he hath in him God most high.

Children before their fleshly birth

Are lights alive in the blue sky.

In our light bitter world of wrong

They come; God gives us them awhile.

His speech is in their stammering tongue,

by Victor Marie Hugo

The Genesis Of The Butterfly

The dawn is smiling on the dew that covers

The tearful roses; lo, the little lovers

That kiss the buds, and all the flutterings

In jasmine bloom, and privet, of white wings,

That go and come, and fly, and peep and hide,

With muffled music, murmured far and wide.

Ah, the Spring time, when we think of all the lays

That dreamy lovers send to dreamy mays,

by Victor Marie Hugo

Ultima Verba (My Last Word)

... Quand même grandirait l'abjection publique

A ce point d'adorer l'exécrable trompeur ;

Quand même l'Angleterre et même l'Amérique

Diraient à l'exilé : - Va-t'en ! nous avons peur !

Quand même nous serions comme la feuille morte,

Quand, pour plaire à César, on nous renîrait tous ;

Quand le proscrit devrait s'enfuir de porte en porte,

Aux hommes déchiré comme un haillon aux clous ;

by Victor Marie Hugo

La Tombe Dit À La Rose (The Grave And The Rose)

La tombe dit à la rose :

- Des pleurs dont l'aube t'arrose

Que fais-tu, fleur des amours ?

La rose dit à la tombe :

- Que fais-tu de ce qui tombe

Dans ton gouffre ouvert toujours ?

La rose dit : - Tombeau sombre,

De ces pleurs je fais dans l'ombre

by Victor Marie Hugo

More Strong Than Time

Since I have set my lips to your full cup, my sweet,

Since I my pallid face between your hands have laid,

Since I have known your soul, and all the bloom of it,

And all the perfume rare, now buried in the shade;

Since it was given to me to hear on happy while,

The words wherein your heart spoke all its mysteries,

Since I have seen you weep, and since I have seen you smile,

by Victor Marie Hugo

Souvenir De La Nuit Du 4 (Memory Of The Night Of The 4th)

L'enfant avait reçu deux balles dans la tête.

Le logis était propre, humble, paisible, honnête ;

On voyait un rameau bénit sur un portrait.

Une vieille grand-mère était là qui pleurait.

Nous le déshabillions en silence. Sa bouche,

Pâle, s'ouvrait ; la mort noyait son oeil farouche ;

Ses bras pendants semblaient demander des appuis.

Il avait dans sa poche une toupie en buis.

by Victor Marie Hugo