C'etait L'heure. (Translation) . Poem by Michael Walker
C'etait L'heure. (Translation) .
'Merci, n'importe ce qui vient'. Et puis elle se tourna
Et, comme le rayon du soleil aux fleurs suspendues
S'affaiblit quand le vent les a levees a l'ecart,
Me quitte vite. Non, n'importe ce qui vienne
Une heure etait allumee par le soleil et des dieux les plus hauts
Ne puissent se vanter de quelque meilleure chose
Que d'avoir regarde cette heure comme elle passait.
-' Erat Hora'. Ezra Pound.
The poet spends some time with a woman who entrances him so much that she affects him for an hour afterwards. It was a unique, special hour for him, when everything was perfect, like an epiphany.
Such experiences are rare in life and the poem demonstrates that it is best to enjoy them to the full.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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3/16/2026 1:05:20 PM # 1.0.0
