Pyrenees

Mountain of the great abused,

At the summit of your feverish towers

Dims the last gleaming.

Naught but void and avalanche,

Distress and regret!

All these ill-loved troubadours

Have seen pale in one summer

Their sweet pessimistic realm.

Ah! the snow is inexorable

That loves having you suffer at its feet,

That wants you to die frozen

When you’ve lived in the sands.

René Char