Apostrophe To Nature
V
Victor Marie Hugo
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O Sun! bright face aye undefiled;
O flowers i' the valley blooming wild;
Caverns, dim haunt of Solitude;
Perfume whereby one's step's beguiled
Deep, deep into the sombre wood;
O Sacred mounts that heavenward climb,
White as a temple-front, sublime;
Old oaks that centuries' might inherit
(Somewhat whereof I feel, what time
'Neath you I stand, endues my spirit);
O virgin forest, crystal spring,
Lake where no storm for long can fling
Darkness, clear heaven-reflecting face,—
Pure soul of Nature unslumbering,
What think you of this bandit base?
Bu metin şairin özgün dilinde (Fransızca) değil, bir çeviridir.
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