Dissonance, accords faux…
Dissonance, accords faux et les rayons aigus
Du soleil perforant l’averse translucide;
Rauque rumeur de bise et la complainte acide
Qu’égrènent les pinsons en triolets têtus.
Tout rit et pleure ensemble, étranges impromptus,
Fins grêlons crépitants à l’horizon livide.
Au ciel froid brusquement qui bleuit ou s’oxyde
S'aiguisent, bistouris, des triolets pointus.
L’étang capricieux obscurément s’azure,
Où se mire le verne à la rouge blessure.
Et, là-haut, tournoyant dans le vent embrumé,
Fauve et hâve désir, s’éternise la buse,
Vers la chanson des nids qui la tente et l’abuse,
Ouvrant son aile maigre et son vol affamé.
Dissonances, false chords…
Dissonances, false chords and sunlight’s lancing sting
That perforate the sudden and translucent shower;
The chill wind’s husky wheeze and sour complaint that string
Out chaffinches in stubborn triplets by their power.
All’s laughter and sad tears, impromptus in strange guise,
Fine hailstones crackling on horizon’s leaden rim.
In chill skies that abruptly blue or oxidise
Some pointed triplets, sharp as scalpels, seem to skim.
The fickle pond obscurely gains an azure hue,
In which, with crimson wound, the alder’s seen anew.
And, up above, gyrating in wind’s misty light,
Tawny and gaunt desire, the buzzard spirals on,
Towards the song of nests that tempts and then is gone,
Opening its skinny wing, as too its hungry flight.
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