The Fog Poem by Michael Wooff

The Fog



The fog has packed its things
In its cottonwool case.
The fog emptiness brings
To my house lost in space.

Garden flowers are alone,
No more trees on the path;
The greenhouse next door's flown
Away, having a laugh.

And I don't have a clue
If the sparrow I hear -
Cheeping plaintively too -
Is far from me or near.

[Translated from the French of Maurice Carême (1899-1978)
by Michael Wooff]

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Patti Masterman 11 March 2010

Beautiful work here. I love that the house is lost somewhere, invisible in the fog which has packed its thing in cottonwool. The missing greenhouse is the most lovely, hilarious touch! It's not a humorous poem but it makes me smile. Thanks for this day brightener. I'm glad you are plying your translators pen again. I have gone too long without reading something casually stunning, like this.

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