Tag: Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Joyeux Thanksgiving avec un poème d’Ella Wheeler Wilcox

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Joyeux Thanksgiving à vous tous – puissiez-vous passer une excellente journée entouré de ceux que vous aimez le plus. En cette occasion spéciale, j’ai décidé de publier un petit poème d’action de grâce d’Ella Wheeler Wilcox.

Thanksgiving

(Action de grâces)

par

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

We walk on starry fields of white


   And do not see the daisies;

For blessings common in our sight


   We rarely offer praises.

We sigh for some supreme delight


   To crown our lives with splendor,

And quite ignore our daily store


   Of pleasures sweet and tender.		Nous marchons sur des champs étoilés de blanc

   Et ne voyons pas les marguerites ;

Pour les bénédictions communes à nos yeux

   Nous offrons rarement des louanges.

Nous soupirons après quelque délice suprême

   Pour couronner nos vies de splendeur,

Et ignorons tout à fait notre réserve quotidienne

   De plaisirs doux et tendres.
Our cares are bold and push their way


   Upon our thought and feeling.

They hand about us all the day,


   Our time from pleasure stealing.

So unobtrusive many a joy

   We pass by and forget it,

But worry strives to own our lives,


   And conquers if we let it.		Nos soucis sont audacieux et poussent leur chemin

   Sur nos pensées et nos sentiments.

Ils passent autour de nous toute la journée,

   Notre temps de vol de plaisir.

Si discrètes bien des joies

   Nous passons à côté et l’oublions,

Mais l’inquiétude s’efforce de posséder nos vies,

   Et conquiert si nous la laissons faire.
There’s not a day in all the year

   But holds some hidden pleasure,

And looking back, joys oft appear


   To brim the past’s wide measure.


But blessings are like friends, I hold,


   Who love and labor near us.

We ought to raise our notes of praise


   While living hearts can hear us.		Il n’y a pas un jour dans toute l’année

   Qui recèle un plaisir caché,

Et en regardant en arrière, les joies apparaissent souvent

   Pour déborder la large mesure du passé.

Mais les bénédictions sont comme des amis, je tiens,

   Qui aiment et travaillent près de nous.

Nous devons élever nos notes de louange

   Tandis que les cœurs vivants peuvent nous entendre.
Full many a blessing wears the guise


   Of worry or of trouble;

Far-seeing is the soul, and wise,

   Who knows the mask is double.

But he who has the faith and strength

   To thank his God for sorrow

Has found a joy without alloy

   To gladden every morrow.		Beaucoup de bénédictions portent l’apparence

   d’inquiétude ou de trouble ;

L’âme est clairvoyante, et sage,

   Qui sait que le masque est double.

Mais celui qui a la foi et la force

   Pour remercier son Dieu de la douleur

A trouvé une joie sans alliage

   Pour réjouir chaque lendemain.
We ought to make the moments notes


   Of happy, glad Thanksgiving;

The hours and days a silent phrase


   Of music we are living.

And so the theme should swell and grow


   As weeks and months pass o’er us,


And rise sublime at this good time,

   A grand Thanksgiving chorus.		Nous devons faire des notes de moments

   De Thanksgiving heureux et joyeux;

Les heures et les jours une phrase silencieuse

   De la musique que nous vivons.

Et ainsi le thème devrait gonfler et grandir

   Au fur et à mesure que les semaines et les mois passent sur nous,

Et s’élever sublime à ce bon moment,

   Un grand chœur de Thanksgiving.

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Happy Thanksgiving with a poem from Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Bilingual booksLire en FrançaisContact us
American LiteratureFrench LiteratureRussian Literature

Happy Thanksgiving, to all of you —may you have a great day surrounded by those you love most. On this special occasion I decided to post a little thanksgiving poem from Ella Wheeler Wilcox.

Thanksgiving

by

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

We walk on starry fields of white
   And do not see the daisies;
For blessings common in our sight
   We rarely offer praises.
We sigh for some supreme delight
   To crown our lives with splendor,
And quite ignore our daily store
   Of pleasures sweet and tender.

Our cares are bold and push their way
   Upon our thought and feeling.
They hand about us all the day,
   Our time from pleasure stealing.
So unobtrusive many a joy
   We pass by and forget it,
But worry strives to own our lives,
   And conquers if we let it.

There’s not a day in all the year
   But holds some hidden pleasure,
And looking back, joys oft appear
   To brim the past’s wide measure.
But blessings are like friends, I hold,
   Who love and labor near us.
We ought to raise our notes of praise
   While living hearts can hear us.

Full many a blessing wears the guise
   Of worry or of trouble;
Far-seeing is the soul, and wise,
   Who knows the mask is double.
But he who has the faith and strength
   To thank his God for sorrow
Has found a joy without alloy
   To gladden every morrow.

We ought to make the moments notes
   Of happy, glad Thanksgiving;
The hours and days a silent phrase
   Of music we are living.
And so the theme should swell and grow
   As weeks and months pass o’er us,
And rise sublime at this good time,
   A grand Thanksgiving chorus.

If you liked this article, subscribe , put likes, write comments!
Share on social networks
Check out Our Latest Posts

© 2022 Akirill.com – All Rights Reserved