Chapter VIII

When you store away in fragrant shelves,
Some autumn eve, the fruits of orchard trees,
I seem to see you calmly ranging there
Our old, but fresh and perfumed memories.

And love returns for them as once they were,
The wind on lips and sunlight in my eyes;
I see the vanished moments once again,
Their joy, their mirth, their fevers and their cries.

The past comes back to life with such desire
To be the present with its force again,
That half-extinct fires burn with sudden flame,
My heart exults and swoons as though in pain.

Oh fruits that glow amid the autumn shadows,
Jewels fallen from the summer's string
Of gems, illumining our sombre hours,
What red awakening is this you bring!