I’m not thinking happy thoughts today.
I don’t know why—is it that the weather’s gray?
Does life merely look grim without the sun?
Will my mood improve when this drizzle’s done?
Will a sunny view cure my dismay?
Shall my mood improve? What is the way?
Go out, run and run... forget the rain
As you used to do... to clear your brain.
But my days of running are gone I fear.
“Where are the snows of yesteryear? ”
Ronsard’s line has caught my eye.
But I can't think of a cheering reply.
Nostalgia is hard to take, And very difficult to fake. I think this feeling comes thru very clearly in this wonderful poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I rate Pierre de Ronsard as a lyric poet, whose writing is timeless. Also Francois Villon his compatriot. I feel better after a long run, but I agree that it is hard to get out there in the rain.