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J'adore Victor Hugo!

Voici une poeme qu'il a ecrive apres sa fille est morte. (Translation: Here is a poem he wrote after his daughter died. And I don't know how to do accents, so I apologize for that...I shall cut and paste the poem from Word.)

Demain, d�s l�aube

Demain, d�s l�aube, � l�heure o� blanchit la campagne
Je partirai. Vois-tu, je sais que tu m�attends.
J�irai par la for�t, j�irai par la montagne.
Je ne puis demeurer loin do toi plue longtemps.

Je marcherai les yeux fix�s sur mes pens�es
Sans rien voir au dehors, sand entendre aucun bruit,
Seul, inconnu, le dos courb�, les mains crois�es,
Triste, et le jour pour moi sera comme la nuit.

Je ne regarderai ni l�or du soir qui tombe,
Ni les voiles au loin descendant vers Harfleur,
Et quand j�arriverai, he metterai sur ta tombe
Un bouquet de houx vert et de bruy�re en fleur.


Translation: (Rough...my knowledge with the help of Altavista, but you'll get the point)
Tomorrow, as of dawn

Tomorrow, as of dawn, the hour where the countryside is whitened,
I will leave. See you, I know that you m.attends.
I will go by the forest, I will go by the mountain.
I then to never remain far from you a long time.

I will walk with eyes fixed on my thoughts
Without anything to see outside, without any noise to hear,
Alone, unknown, the curved back, the crossed hands,
Sad, and the day for me will be like the night.

I will look at neither the golden evening which falls,
Nor the veils with far descent towards Harfleur,
And when I will arrive, I will put on your tomb
A green bouquet of houx and heather in bloom.


It looses a bit in the translation, but it's really very beautiful.

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