Verse > Anthologies > Samuel Waddington, ed. > The Sonnets of Europe
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Samuel Waddington, comp.  The Sonnets of Europe.  1888.
 
Eastward, the Sun
By Adam Mickiewicz (1798–1855)
 
Translated by Richard Garnett

EASTWARD, the sun arises clad in gold,
  Westward, the waning moonbeam disappears;
Like spreading fires the rose’s buds unfold,
  The violet droops, borne down by dewy tears.
 
My Laura, from her casement, bright and glad,        5
  Shines forth upon me, on my knees I bow;
Winding her golden tresses, Why so sad
  The moon, she asks, the violet, and thou?
 
’Tis eve, how changed! with added glory burns
  The orient moon, and, now no more forlorn,        10
  The violet drinks the sweet reviving breeze;
And Laura to her oriel returns
  In lovelier garb, with dearer charms, and sees
  Me sad as erst she saw me in the morn.
 
 
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