Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Claude Esteban

It will be evening…

It will be evening, the same
evening hour, the doves


will begin to light on the branches,
someone will say, how


the grass has grown, come let us sit,
and tell us


to pass the time, a slightly daft story,
that of a king


who thought he knew everything and who lost
everything, someone


will say, that’s enough of sad tales,
forget them,


as the sun slowly sets.

Ce sera le soir

Ce sera le soir

Ce sera le soir, la même heure
du soir, les colombes


commenceront à se poser sur les branches,
quelqu’un dira, comme


l’herbe est haute, allons nous asseoir,
racontons-nous


pour passer le temps une histoire un peu folle,
celle d’un roi


qui croyait tout savoir et qui perdit
tout, quelqu’un


dira, c’en est fini des fables
tristes, oublions-les,


comme le soleil se couche lentement.
Close

It will be evening…

It will be evening, the same
evening hour, the doves


will begin to light on the branches,
someone will say, how


the grass has grown, come let us sit,
and tell us


to pass the time, a slightly daft story,
that of a king


who thought he knew everything and who lost
everything, someone


will say, that’s enough of sad tales,
forget them,


as the sun slowly sets.

It will be evening…

It will be evening, the same
evening hour, the doves


will begin to light on the branches,
someone will say, how


the grass has grown, come let us sit,
and tell us


to pass the time, a slightly daft story,
that of a king


who thought he knew everything and who lost
everything, someone


will say, that’s enough of sad tales,
forget them,


as the sun slowly sets.
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