Shrouded in a drowsy slumber, The half-naked forest is sad... Perhaps a hundredth of the summer leaves, Shimmering with autumnal gilding, Still rustles on the branches. I watch with tender compassion, When, breaking through the clouds, Suddenly, across the mottled trees, With their decrepit, exhausted leaves, A lightning-like ray splashes. How sweet is the fading! What charm in it for us, When what once bloomed and lived so, Now, so feeble and frail, Smiles for the last time!
Fyodor Tyutchev "Shrouded in a drowsy slumber..."
Shrouded in a drowsy slumber,
The half-naked forest is sad...
Perhaps a hundredth of the summer leaves,
Shimmering with autumnal gilding,
Still rustles on the branches.
I watch with tender compassion,
When, breaking through the clouds,
Suddenly, across the mottled trees,
With their decrepit, exhausted leaves,
A lightning-like ray splashes.
How sweet is the fading!
What charm in it for us,
When what once bloomed and lived so,
Now, so feeble and frail,
Smiles for the last time!