The wonderful Autumn blew its horns at my pane <br />Where are the silver horns? Is the hunting over? <br />They must have lost my scent. The barks are on the wane. <br />I wail in vain, a mocked lover <br />Whose years shall not last for ever. <br /> <br />What you sowed in May you must reap in September. <br />But my seedlings that sprout and diamond-like sparkle <br />Are dead. Aged wines shan't fill your casks, Vintager! <br />On twin towers the loving couple <br />Hail eternally each other. <br /> <br />Thirty three snow white swans that overflew my head. <br />Thirty three black ravens that shall never fly home. <br />My legend, a short-lived rose, flourished in my stead <br />And the loves of the years bygone <br />Are bewailing the loves to come. <br /> <br />The wonderful Autumn heralds Winter that sounds. <br />Grooms and whips shall hunt down the doe through the heather. <br />Barren for evermore shall remain my own grounds <br />But I shall never get over <br />Rose or wheat I didn't gather.<br /><br />Michel Galiana<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-ballad-2/
