Violettes et jacinthes, au milieu de les herbes,
Rosée sur les roses dans tôt le matin ;
Est-ce que tu as vu mes capucines superbes,
Et as-tu senti la fragrance de mes lilas divin ?
Arriver dans la journée ensoleillée, si tu veux chéri,
Ou dans le nuit, et voir des lys opalescent, sans peur ;
Mais venir dans le crépuscule, à l’heure de magie  
Et puis tu comprendrais l’amour dans mon cœur.

The night is darkening round me,
The wild winds coldly blow;
But a tyrant spell has bound me
And I cannot, cannot go.

The giant trees are bending
Their bare boughs weighed with snow,
And the storm is fast descending
And yet I cannot go.

Clouds beyond clouds above me,
Wastes beyond wastes below;
But nothing drear can move me;
I will not, cannot go.

January cold desolate;
February all dripping wet;
March wind ranges;
April changes;
Birds sing in tune
To flowers of May,
And sunny June
Brings longest day;
In scorched July
The storm-clouds fly
Lightning torn;
August bears corn,
September fruit;
In rough October
Earth must disrobe her;
Stars fall and shoot
In keen November;
And night is long
And cold is strong
In bleak December.

What are heavy? sea-sand and sorrow:
What are brief? today and tomorrow:
What are frail? Spring blossoms and youth:
What are deep ? the ocean and truth.

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling leaves in glee;
A poet could not be but gay,
In such a jocund company!
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

Men and women for election,
Listen to the crowds,
Reflect desires to perfection,
Echo murmurs loud.

Elected, the voters exult
If their candidates win,
Curse under losing result...
Plot to get themselves in.

Either way, time isn't long,
Voters lose first love;
Officials begin to look wrong,
And politics gives 'em a shove.

We never quite see
We're electing ourselves;
Candidates riding on mirrors;
Shiny reflections scream while we yell
Our demands or feed on our fears.

Soon plans we've made turn to dust;
Politicos fail us;
The system breaks down;
The party clogs with inertia and rust,
Until the next campaign comes 'round.

Want to see what we'll get?
Take a look in the mirror...
What we see gives us reason
For fretting and fear.

True mirrors, our best politicians;
Can only reflect what they see...
If we kneel to offer petitions,
Ourselves will pay for our pleas.

My heart is like a singing bird
Whose nest is in a water'd shoot;
My heart is like an apple-tree
Whose boughs are bent with thickset fruit;
My heart is like a rainbow shell
That paddles in a halcyon sea;
My heart is gladder than all these
Because my love is come to me.

Raise me a dais of silk and down;
Hang it with vair and purple dyes;
Carve it in doves and pomegranates,
And peacocks with a hundred eyes;
Work it in gold and silver grapes,
In leaves and silver fleurs-de-lys;
Because the birthday of my life
Is come, my love is come to me.