PN Review Print and Online Poetry Magazine
Most Read... Rebecca WattsThe Cult of the Noble Amateur
(PN Review 239)
Mark FordLetters And So It Goes
Letters from Young Mr Grace
(aka John Ashbery)

(PN Review 239)
Henry Kingon Toby Martinez de las Rivas
(PN Review 244)
Eavan BolandA Lyric Voice at Bay
(PN Review 121)
Vahni CapildeoOn Judging Prizes, & Reading More than Six Really Good Books
(PN Review 237)
M. Wynn ThomasThe Other Side of the Hedge
(PN Review 239)
Next Issue Fire and Tears: a meditation, VAHNI CAPILDEO Grodzinksi’s Kosher Bakery and other poems, MICHAEL BRETT Vienna, MARIUS KOCIEJOWSKI In conversation with John Ash, JEFFREY KAHRS Play it all the way through, first – but slowly, KIRTSY GUNN
Poems Articles Interviews Reports Reviews Contributors
PNR 250 Poetry Archive Banner
Monthly Carcanet Books
PN Review Blog

This poem is taken from PN Review 257, Volume 47 Number 3, January - February 2021.

A Charles Baudelaire Suite
translated from the French
Daisy Fried
Autumn Song

Soon the plunge in dark and cold;
Goodbye too soon to summer’s limpid light!
Already, I’m hearing firewood thump
Its hollow pavement shocks.

Winter feelings rush in: wrath,
Loathing, thrills of dread, sentence of hard labour,
And, like the sky in its polar hell,
My heart will freeze, a meaty block.

I shudder, listening to each log chopped.
A gallows being built has that muffled echo.
My mind’s a teetering parapet
Annihilated by a battering ram below.

Rockabyed by this metronomic knock,
Seems someone hasty’s nailing shut a coffin –
For whom? – it was just summer! now fall.

Searching, please wait... animated waiting image