| Samuel Waddington, comp. The Sonnets of Europe. 1888. | | | | Before the Snow | | By Albert Glatigny (1839–1873) |
| | Translated by Andrew Lang
THE WINTER is upon us, not the snow, | |
| The hills are etched on the horizon bare, | |
| The skies are iron grey, a bitter air, | |
| The meagre cloudlets shudder to and fro. | |
| One yellow leaf the listless wind doth blow, | 5 |
| Like some strange butterfly, unclassed and rare. | |
| Your footsteps ring in frozen alleys, where | |
| The black trees seem to shiver as you go. | |
| |
| Beyond lie church and steeple, with their old | |
| And rusty vanes that rattle as they veer, | 10 |
| A sharper gust would shake them from their hold, | |
| Yet up that path, in summer of the year, | |
| And past that melancholy pile we strolled | |
| To pluck wild strawberries, with merry cheer. | | | | |
|
|
