The meadow is poisonous but pretty in autumn
The cows grazing there
are slowly poisoning themselves
Meadow saffron the colour of your eye-shadow of lilacs
flower there your eyes are like that flower
Violet like the eye-shadow & like the autumn
& for your eyes my life slowly poisons itself
School children come noisily
dressed in their smocks & playing harmonicas
They pick the meadow saffrons which are like mothers
Daughters of their daughters & the colour of your eyelids
which flutter like flowers caught in a crazy wind
The cowherd sings very softly
whilst the slow lowing cows abandon
this great meadow ill-flowered by the autumn
-Guillaume Apollinaire
Friday, January 06, 2006
Meadow Saffrons (Les Colchiques)
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