Before the factory door
The worker suddenly stops
The fine weather tugs his sleeve
And as he turns
And looks at the Sun
All Red
All Round
Smiling in the leaden sky
He winks familiarly
Tell me comrade Sun
Don't you think it
Somewhat sad
To give such a day
To a Boss.
Translation.
Le temps Perdu.
Jacques Prévert.
David Holbrook
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/wasted-time-8/
