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Alfred GARNEAU ! (1836-1904)
Sketch
I was looking, at dawn, for a little-known flower, a
pale girl of the woods and secret streams,
From crystal springs to murmuring waters,
followed my steps and surprised my sight.
Oh, fresh cascatelle! In slight tangles,
Her wave tapered, white, to the bare rock,
Then, under a golden ray for a moment held back,
She laughed in the sky between her brown reeds!
And as I inclined a few mutinous stems,
Without noise, with an ear open to Argentine rumours,
Similar to the sighs of a mysterious lute,
Suddenly, sliding towards me on his worried
wing Through the branches, soft and leaning his head,
a nightingale came to drink in a harmonious flow.
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