Henry Bataille Poems

Les trains rêvent dans la rosée, au fond des gares...
Ils rêvent des heures, puis grincent et démarrent...
...

THE trains dream in the dew for hours outside
The stations, then unmoor, and grate, and glide ...
I love the wet trains passing through the fields,
Long caravans of all the country yields;
...

WE have our tears. This is grief's anodyne,
To know that tears a-many are in store.
And hearts did know them faithful, even before
...

I HAVE been watching through grey window panes
This evening falling ... Someone is astray
Along the ditches filled with autumn rains ...
O wearied wanderer upon thy way
...