Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, WHAT THE SWALLOWS SAY, by THEOPHILE GAUTIER


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

WHAT THE SWALLOWS SAY, by             Poem Explanation         Poet's Biography
First Line: Dry leaves drop silently and cover
Last Line: With swallows to eternal spring!
Alternate Author Name(s): Theo, Le Bon
Subject(s): Migration; Swallows; Winter


Dry leaves drop silently and cover
The turf no longer fresh and green:
Fair weather now alas! is over,
The breeze at morn and eve is keen.

But ere the Autumn days are ended,
Earth's latest treasures charm the sight;
The dahlia's full cockade is splendid,
The marigold is flaming bright.

In bubbling drops the rain is beating
On every fountain, while on high
The swallows hold a monster meeting
To prate of winter now so nigh.

By hundreds they have flocked together,
Concerting plans to flee the cold:
One says, " 'Tis always charming weather
At Athens, on the rampart old.

There, on the Parthenon I've wintered
For many a year in peaceful rest,
And where a cannon-ball has splintered
A pillar's frieze, I make my nest."

Another cries: "I hang my chamber
Within a Turkish Café's walls,
Where Hadjis count their beads of amber,
And sunshine o'er the threshold falls:

I come—I go—I find no trouble
'Mid Latakia's vapours white,
And while the long narghilehs bubble,
I skim gay turbans in my flight."

A third: "In Baalbec's temple splendid
A triglyph yields me shelter warm;
There, lightly by my claws suspended,
I screen my gaping chicks from harm."

A fourth: "In future my address is
Rhodes, once with knightly warriors fill'd;
Beneath a capital's recesses
On some black column I shall build."

A fifth one twitters: "I am fearful
Age won't permit me far to fly;
Still, Malta's terraces are cheerful
Between blue water and blue sky."

A sixth: "For me the land of Pharaoh!
I'll paste an ornament with loam
High on a minaret of Cairo,
And thus secure my winter-home."

The last one: "Soon I shall be flitting
Above the Second Cataract;
A granite monarch there is sitting,
For swallows' nests expressly crack'd."

Then all exclaim: "With tireless motion
To-morrow we shall voyage o'er
Brown plains, white peaks, and purple ocean
Whose foaming billows fringe the shore."

With quick, shrill cries, and wings a-flutter
On the tall roofs and narrow eaves,
Such is the talk the swallows utter,
Scared by the Autumn's reddening leaves.

I can interpret all their prattle;
Each poet is a bird of light,
Though like a captive, doomed to battle
With powers unseen that check his flight.

Then, "Oh! for pinions, airy pinions,"
As Rückert's charming verses sing,
To rove each year o'er earth's dominions
With swallows to eternal spring!





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