October months soon bald
This October of bald October sets up its ghostly atmosphere,
But despite his gentle melancholy he brings his luminosity full of life,
This tawny month, red and golden, is married in the white dress of the magic mist,
Leaving the moon, the queen of the night, rise in its orange plenitude, delighted.
It is the time of the nuts, hiding under their thin and golden skin
A subtle ivoryine flesh with a sweet, enchanted flavor.
In perspective of the dead season the trees grieved,
Let their tears of leaves flow, which a squall makes waltzing.
In the deciduous woods, the red chaperones raise their scarlet hats,
The pretty russule, with its rose-colored foot, emits a menthol smell,
Emerging from the mattress of thorns, the headdresses of elves awake, spartan
Equestrian tricholomes, the color of sulfur, attract the eye like fireflies.
"Executioner of the trees" or "vine of Judas" it invades hedges and bushes,
To this poisoned beauty in the name of "licorice of the witches" one says attention,
She embraces every plant of these garlands of purple flowers and juxtaposed red fruits,
But this dangerous temptation of taste causes severe nausea and diarrhea.
Suddenly a creative, creative, powerful creature flies off the top of a royal conifer,
Could it be the raven master on his perched tree that would taste the sweet autumn,
That nenni, at the top of the pines or larches it is the broken nutcracker,
A small corvid with chocolate plumage, dotted with drops of milk.
Like a mechanical toy, a feathered ball turns up around a trunk,
Hardly seen, already disappeared, the climber of the woods makes his ascent,
With its long, curved beak, it scatters the pieces of bark used as traps,
To find some insects, then flies away and begins his carousel again.
Close by, Robin Hood pumps reddish, collects his reserves,
Sieur Roussel climbs the trees, steals from tops in superb crowns,
In the kingdom of oaks and beeches, the squirrel fills up with feathers and acorns,
Crunch a part, then hide the rest to face the scarcity of the new year.
In the gardens, its myriad of spring flowers enchant by its whiteness,
In the autumn it offers its black berries and shining in clusters all in roundness,
While thrushes, turds, blackbirds and warblers are the first to revel in it,
Humans benefit from the culinary and medicinal virtues of Black Buckthorn Elder.
True madeleine of autumn, sign of fertility and of love among the Cretans,
This big pear bosselée yellow gives off a pleasant smell pungent and sweet,
Immortal raw, this "apple of Cydon", accompanied by sugar makes you joy,
Sprinkled with brown sugar, the quinces are succulent in the oven in paste or jelly.
In the forest, about the same size, two types of peak compete,
Both colorful with the black back marked with an exquisite whiteness,
The peak mar is distinguished by its bright red cap in the form of wig,
While that of the spiked blackpepper is black with a mustache at the nape of the neck.
Another acrobat not experiencing vertigo, the pine marten,
Who develops a beautiful energy thanks to its long tail as a pendulum,
Voles and mice make up its menu, with eggs or pine cones,
His girlfriend, the madman, stands out with his yellow bib on top of his slender legs.
The one we call the "piaf" is part of our decor and our history,
Sieur Pierrot with brown back striped in black has a gray cap and a black bib,
Dame Moinelle with the more dull dress offers a coquetry behind the eye to the cream eyebrow,
The approaching winter will be difficult for the sparrows, so keep them from the supreme crumbs.
And if there remains only one, it will be that one melting in the rusty tone of the foliage,
In spite of a song less twirling it is one of the last ones to grow in the garden,
His chirping enabled him to assert himself as the master of the bailliage,
The little fearful robin is watching for a crumb of bread, and the days are getting naughty.
The chimneys again spit volutes heavy with yellowish smoke,
This is the time for the small needle assault tank to prepare its winter lodge,
This knight in armor starts each night his crusade against the greenish snails,The hedgehog filling growling grunts,
Objective, make fat in the end.
The nascent mist, good counselor, urges us to change the dress of the town,
In October it is necessary that the man quickly dresses when the mulberry undresses,
For if October is filled with wind, from the cold you will suffer for a long time,
Goshawk heading towards the Iberian peninsula across the Occitan country.
The vegetal ornaments blaze before passing the hand in winter without gloves,
This reprieve called the summer of St. Martin, sprinkle the mountains of purple and copper,
A late brownish season when the horizon in the evening comes illuminated with touches of blood.
The wind brings forth decaying leaves scattered to survive.
Elegant by its dorsal plumage with green metallic reflections and its dark pink legs,
It is his long and fine black tassel that makes the pride of this light migrant,
The wind causing it to wave softly or giving it a disheveled look,
It is by great clouds with the flying butterfly that migrates away the frost away the cowboy.
Beast of the farmers reproaching him for raffoling ears of corn lying on the ground,
The badger, king of the terrassiers, is very useful to nature, where he destroys mice and voles,
Recognizable by his gray back with stiff hairs, his white muzzle streaked with black,
He sleeps the day in his lair and digs, looking for the white greens of the cockchafer in the evening.
As the singer Francis Cabrel,
"The wind will crack branches
The mist will come in her white dress
We'll go up the hills
Look at everything Octobre illuminates. "
L’ ARIÉ…JOIE