Tomorrow, at dawn, at the hour when the countryside whitens,
I will set out. You see,
I know that you wait for me.
I will go by the forest,
I will go by the mountain.
I can no longer remain far from you.
I will walk with my eyes fixed on my thoughts,
Seeing nothing of outdoors, hearing no
Alone, unknown, my back curved, my hands crossed,
Sorrowed, and the day for me will be as the night.
I will not look at the gold of evening which falls,
Nor the distant sails going down towards Harfleur,
And when I arrive,
I will place on your tombA bouquet of green holly and of flowering Victor Hugo's daughter Leopoldine was married to Charles Vacquerie in February 1843, and in September she drowned with her husband.
In this poem, 'Tomorrow,
At Dawn', written on the fourth anniversary of her death,
Hugo depicted his walk to the place where she was buried:
