Arbres

La milice qui croyait tellement

Aux grands chênes

Qu’elle les garnissait de pendus.

Celui qui contemple les arbres

A parfois la froideur

Du renard guettant les corbeaux

Jusqu’à ce qu’il lui en tombe un,

Sur la gueule, gelé.

Trees

The militia which had such faith

In tall oaks

That it festooned them with hanged men.

He who gazes at trees

Sometimes has the cold indifference

Of a fox who stares at the crows

Until one drops to him

Right on his snout, frozen.