Tomorrow At Dawn
Tomorrow at dawn, when the fields pale with hoar,
I will leave here. I know you wait for me still.
I’ll cross every forest, I’ll cross every hill.
I can’t be apart from you any more.
I’ll walk with nothing but my thoughts in sight,
not seeing a thing, not hearing a sound,
alone and unknown, back bent, hands bound,
a pitiful man whose day is his night.
I won’t look at the gold of the twilight hour
or the Harfleur harbor where the ship sails wave.
And when I arrive, I will place on your grave
a garland of holly and heather in flower.
Victor HugoTranslated from French by Paul Weinfield, © 2013