Everytime I run across this funny, lovely poem, I wonder how Apollinaire had heard of Galveston, Texas, and if he had the Galveston hurricane of 1900 somewhat in mind when he wrote it.
Annie
Sur la côte du Texas
Entre Mobile et Galveston il y a
Un grand jardin tout plein de roses
Il contient aussi une villa
Qui est une grande rose
Une femme se promène souvent
Dans le jardin toute seule
Et quand je passe sur la route bordée de tilleuls
Nous nous regardons
Comme cette femme est mennonite
Ses rosiers et ses vêtements n'ont pas de boutons
Il en manque deux à mon veston
La dame et moi suivons presque le même rite
-- Guillaume Apollinaire
(from Alcools, 1913; first published Sept. 1912)
Annie
(tr. Oliver Bernard)
On the coast of Texas
Between Mobile and Galveston there is
A great big garden overgrown with roses
It also contains a villa
Which is one great rose
Often a woman walks
In the garden all alone
And when I pass on the lime-tree-bordered road
We look at each other
Since this woman belongs to the Mennonite sect
Her rose trees have no buds and her clothes no buttons
There are two missing from my jacket
This lady and I are almost of the same religion.
