Jules Laforgue - Triste, Triste (French Poem)

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Jules Laforgue - Triste, Triste




This Poem is another one that expresses sorrow.The title itself means “Sad, Sad” and this work by French symbolist poet Jules Laforgue is all about contemplating sadness in life.
When you’re down and troubled and need a sorrowful yet beautiful French poem to keep you company, look no further.

Triste, Triste
Je contemple mon feu. J'étouffe un bâillement.Le vent pleure. La pluie à ma vitre ruisselle.Un piano voisin joue une ritournelle.Comme la vie est triste et coule lentement.Je songe à notre Terre, atome d'un moment,Dans l'infini criblé d'étoiles éternelles,Au peu qu'ont déchiffré nos débiles prunelles,
Au Tout qui nous est clos inexorablement.
Et notre sort! toujours la même comédie,
Des vices, des chagrins, le spleen, la maladie,
Puis nous allons fleurir les beaux pissenlits d'or.
L'Univers nous reprend, rien de nous ne subsiste,
Cependant qu'ici-bas tout continue encor.
Comme nous sommes seuls! Comme la vie est triste!
Sad, Sad
I contemplate my fire. I stifle a yawn.The wind weeps. The rain streams against my window.Next door a piano plays a ritornello.How sad is life and how slowly it flows.I sing to our earth, atom of a moment,In the infinite screen of eternal stars,To the few that have deciphered our feeble eyes,
To all that is inexorably closed to us.
And our type! Always the same comedy,
Vices, griefs, melancholy, sickness,
And then we make lovely golden dandelions blossom.
The universe reclaims us, nothing of ours endures,
Nevertheless let everything down here continue again.
How alone we are! How sad is life!

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