At the End of September
The garden flowers still blossom in the vale,
Before our house the poplars still are green;
But soon the mighty winter will prevail;
Snow is already on the mountain seen.
The summer sun’s benign and warming ray
Still moves my youthful heart, now in its spring;
But lo! my hair shows signs of turning gray,
The wintry days thereto their colors bring.
This life is short; too early fades the rose;
To sit here on my knee, my darling, come!
Wilt thou who now dost on my breast repose,
Not kneel, perhaps, to-morrow o’er my tomb?
O, tell me, if before thee I should die,
Wilt thou, with broken heart, weep o’er my bier?
Or will some youth efface my memory
And with his love dry up thy mournful tear?
If thou dost lay aside the widow’s veil,
Pray hang it o’er my tomb. At midnight I
Shall rise, and, coming forth from death’s dark vale,
Take it with me to where, forgot, I lie
And wipe with it my ceaseless flowing tears,
Flowing for thee who hast forgotten me,
And bind my bleeding heart which ever bears
Even then and there, the truest love for thee.
~~
Sandor Petofi (1821-1849)
translated by William N. Loew
from Gems from Petofi and other Hungarian poets, 1881
[Poem is in the public domain worldwide]
"At the End of September" read by Michael Godollin. Courtesy YouTube.
Love iambic pentameter. An ambitious poem. Always amazes me the work and time put into writing a longer poem. Much thought and hoped for inspiration. Like 3 poems in one. Enjambment. September becomes a metaphor for death, loss, mourning a time that has come to pass. My grandmother passed on in September and I thought this was fitting because she was a consumate gardener... then after she died within a year her entire garden, variety trees and all, left with her 'spose to heaven. I imagine her there still, forever tending to her garden. "... if before thee I should die..." My partner/husband and I have this chat. I'll tell yah I will never cease to cry if he leaves me first... 💟💟💟💟💟💟
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