by Pierre Reverdy
It is indeed autumn that returns
Will someone sing
But nobody
except me
cares
I shall be the last
But she is not as sad
as has been said
this pale season
A little more sadness
To prove your point
The smoke asks
Will it be him or you
who will praise it
before the first frosts
And me I wait
For the last light
to rise in the night
But the earth descends
It's not all over
A wing supports it
All the time
I will go with you to the end of the line
To close the door
If it's too windy
translation by Kenneth Rexroth
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