Ce soir de nuages


Ce soir de nuages,

qui cachent des seaux

d’eaux et de grêlons,

et cette lune a moitié mangée,

rongée par l’espace,

je te cherche dans les ombres mouvants,

argentés et sombres,

et j’écoute le vent,

trie les sons sauvages

pour un note de flute argenté,

qui serait ton dernier mot,

que le flot emporte,

la houle de nuit encre,

le sifflet du dernier train.


This night of cloud

that hides pails of rain

buckets of hail

and a half-eaten moon

balloon nibbled by space,

I look for you in the moving shadows

silvery sallows,

and I listen to the wind,

unwind the wild sounds

for a silvery flute note—

your final word floats

snatched by the tide,

the flood of night-ink,

that drinks up

the whistle of the last train.


Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

12 thoughts on “Ce soir de nuages”

  1. Gorgeous in both languages, Jane. Your French is excellent! I took French in school for many years but lost most of it. Although I can still tead it. Gorgeous!

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