Poem of the Week

Rondel: Le temps a laissé son manteau
Charles d'Orleans

Le temps a laissé son manteau.
De vent, de froidure et de pluie,
Et s’est vêtu de broderie,
De soleil luisant, clair et beau.

Il n’y a bête, ni oiseau
Qu’en son jargon ne chante ou crie :
Le temps a laissé son manteau.

Rivière, fontaine et ruisseau
Portent en livrée jolie,
Gouttes d’argent d’orfèvrerie,
Chacun s’habille de nouveau :
Le temps a laissé son manteau.

(Broad English translation (mine, so probably error-prone):

The season has removed his coat
Of wind, cold and rain,
And put on embroidery,
Of gleaming sunshine, bright and beautiful.

There is neither animal nor bird
That doesn’t call or cry in its own tongue:
The season has removed his coat.

Rivers, fountains and brooks
Wear, as handsome garments,
Silver gouts of goldsmith’s work;
Everyone puts on new clothing:
The season has removed his coat.)