Ode to Asters and Autumn

Shorter days, cooler weather, rain, make me a little melancholy. But, then I see the blooming asters. There are many gifts in each season.

Again the asters’ baleful light begins to bloom;
again an autumn comes. —And this heart worn with longing,
in which the summer’s torch begins to smoke and gutter,
then shudders, and recoils….

—I, whose hand felt the weight of the warm fruit
but was denied a bite in recompense;
who, knowing you are there, autumn compassion,
know myself the more alone;

eternal reaper, I, who cut the corn
but never for himself did bind the sheaf;
perpetual sailor in his water furrows
who never to harbor came:

again an autumn comes; and again cruel want comes near
this heart that, without hope, yet does still know desire;
that, ever longing for this autumnal dying,
after winter knows it’s spring….

—Again my autumn blood burns in beseeching gestures;
again the heart weeps where the old wound sears….
—How the gold of the chestnut trees is bronzing!
The silver aster blooms…

Karel van de Woestijne
(from De modderen man, 1920)

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