Paul Eluard
Hunted
A few grains of dust more or less On ancient shoulders Locks of weakness on weary foreheads This theatre of honey and faded roses Where incalcuable flies Reply to the black signs that misery
The Nakedness of Truth (I know it well)
Despair has no wings, Nor has love, No countenance: They do not speak. I do not stir, I do not behold them, I do not speak to them, But I am as real as
Other Children
“Little child of my five senses And of my tenderness.” Let us cradle our loves, We will have good children. Well cared for, We will fear nothing on earth, Happiness, good fortune, prudence, Our
I Cannot be Known
I cannot be known Better than you know me Your eyes in which we sleep We together Have made for my man’s gleam A better fate than for the common nights Your eyes in
To Live
We both have our hands to give Take mine I shall lead you afar I have lived several times my face hasw changed With every threshold I have crossed and every hand clasped Familial
The Absence
I speak to you across cities I speak to you across plains My mouth is upon your pillow Both faces of the walls come meeting My voice discovering you I speak to you of
Head Against The Walls
There were only a few of them In all the earth Each one thought he was alone They sang, they were right To sing But they sang the way you sack a city The
The Deaf and Blind
Do we reach the sea with clocks In our pockets, with the noise of the sea In the sea, or are we the carriers Of a purer and more silent water? The water rubbing
Five Haiku
The wind Undecided Rolls a cigarette of air The mute girl talks: It is art’s imperfection. This impenetrable speech. The motor car is truly launched: Four martyrs’ heads Roll under the wheels. Ah! a
The Human Face
I. Soon Of all the springtimes of the world This one is the ugliest Of all of my ways of being To be trusting is the best Grass pushes up snow Like the stone
Curfew
What else could we do, for the doors were guarded, What else could we do, for they had imprisoned us, What else could we do, for the streets were forbidden us, What else could
Lady Love
She is standing on my eyelids And her hair is in my hair She has the color of my eye She has the body of my hand In my shade she is engulfed As
At the Window
I have not always had this certainty, this pessimism which reassures the best among us. There was A time when my friends laughed at me. I was not the master of my words. A
La courbe de tes yeux
La courbe de tes yeux fait le tour de mon coeur, Un rond de danse et de douceur, Auréole du temps, berceau nocturne et sûr, Et si je ne sais plus tout ce que