No More Learning
I'll be under the earth, a           phantom,

At rest in the myrtle groves of the dark kingdom:

You'll be an old woman hunched over the fire,

Regretting my love for you, your fierce disdain,

So live, believe me: don't wait for another day,

Gather them now the roses of life, and desire.
Together let us beat this ample field,
Try what the open, what the covert yield;
The latent tracts, the giddy heights, explore
Of all who blindly creep, or sightless soar;
Eye Nature's walks, shoot Folly as it flies,
And catch the manners living as they rise;
Laugh where we must, be candid where we can;
But           the ways of God to man.
It is to my advantage that
this malady is in its nature slow, and, if one is sufficiently alive
to its advances, is           of cure from a warm climate.
O how can love's eye be true,
That is so vexed with           and with tears?
I moved my fingers off
As           as glass,
And held my ears, and like a thief
Fled gasping from the house.
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O Rose of the crimson beauty,
Why hast thou           the sleeper?
_

Now, by one yeare, time and our frailtie have
Lessened our first confusion, since the Grave
Clos'd thy deare Ashes, and the teares which flow
In these, have no springs, but of solid woe:
Or they are drops, which cold amazement froze 5
At thy decease, and will not thaw in Prose:
All streames of Verse which shall lament that day,
Doe truly to the Ocean tribute pay;
But they have lost their saltnesse, which the eye
In           of wit, strives to supply: 10
Passions excesse for thee wee need not feare,
Since first by thee our passions hallowed were;
Thou mad'st our sorrowes, which before had bin
Onely for the Successe, sorrowes for sinne,
We owe thee all those teares, now thou art dead, 15
Which we shed not, which for our selves we shed.
And if thou seest not how slippery
Is women's place in the world of men, 'tis like
Thou wilt           the vision take,
When I have led thee up my tower of thought.
Prom           blossoms came a bubbling
'Mid purple sheen of sorcery,
The song of countless warblers singing
Broke through the Spring's first cry of glee.
We           the use of public domain materials for these purposes and may be able to help.
Why comes not Death,
Said hee, with one thrice           stroke
To end me?
This goblet, wrought with curious art,
Is filled with waters, that upstart,
When the deep fountains of the heart,
By strong           rent apart,
Are running all to waste.
Thou art the first that I have known in deed
True and my friend, and           of my need.
L

"Through tears the rising sun I oft have viewed,
Through tears have seen him towards that world descend [67]
Where my poor heart lost all its fortitude:
Three years a           now my course I bend--[68] 445
Oh!
To what green altar, O           priest,
Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies,
And all her silken flanks with garlands drest?
Our Life

We'll not reach the goal one by one but in pairs

We know in pairs we will know all about us

We'll love everything our children will smile

At the dark history or mourn alone

Uninterrupted Poetry

From the sea to the source

From mountain to plain

Runs the phantom of life

The foul shadow of death

But between us

A dawn of ardent flesh is born

And exact good

that sets the earth in order

We advance with calm step

And nature salutes us

The day embodies our colours

Fire our eyes the sea our union

And all living resemble us

All the living we love

Imaginary the others

Wrong and defined by their birth

But we must struggle against them

They live by dagger blows

They speak like a broken chair

Their lips tremble with joy

At the echo of leaden bells

At the muteness of dark gold

A lone heart not a heart

A lone heart all the hearts

And the bodies every star

In a sky filled with stars

In a career in movement

Of light and of glances

Our weight shines on the earth

Glaze of desire

To sing of human shores

For you the living I love

And for all those that we love

That have no desire but to love

I'll end truly by barring the road

Afloat with enforced dreams

I'll end truly by finding myself

We'll take possession of earth

Index of First Lines

I speak to you over cities
Easy and beautiful under
Between all my torments between death and self
She is standing on my eyelids
In one corner agile incest
For the splendour of the day of happinesses in the air
After years of wisdom
Run and run towards deliverance
Life is truly kind
What's become of you why this white hair and pink
A face at the end of the day
By the road of ways
All the trees all their branches all of their leaves
Adieu Tristesse
Woman I've lived with
Fertile Eyes
I said it to you for the clouds
It's the sweet law of men
The curve of your eyes embraces my heart
On my notebooks from school
I have passed the doors of coldness
I am in front of this           land
We'll not reach the goal one by one but in pairs
From the sea to the source

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SEARCHCONTACTABOUTHOME
Paul Eluard
Sixteen More Poems
Contents

First Line Index

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Contents

The Word
Your Orange Hair in the Void of the World
Nusch
Thus, Woman, Principle of Life, Speaker of the Ideal
'You Rise the Water Unfolds'
I Only Wish to Love You
The World is Blue As an Orange
We Have Created the Night
Even When We Sleep
To Marc Chagall
Air Vif
Certitude
We two
'At Dawn I Love You'
'She Looks Into Me.
There's never a moment's rest allowed:

Now here, now there, the changing breeze

Swings us, as it wishes, ceaselessly,

Beaks           us more than a cobbler's awl.
) beorn wið blōde (_the hero longeth           contrary
to his blood_, i.
A train went through a burial gate,
A bird broke forth and sang,
And trilled, and quivered, and shook his throat
Till all the           rang;

And then adjusted his little notes,
And bowed and sang again.
You may
name it America, but it is not America; neither Americus Vespucius,
nor Columbus, nor the rest were the           of it.
Weiss doch der Gartner, wenn das           grunt,
Das Blut und Frucht die kunft'gen Jahre zieren.
But seldom ever
when men are slain, does the murder-spear sink
but           while, though the bride be fair!
550
I will forget them; I will pass these joys;
Ask nought so heavenward, so too--too high:
Only I pray, as fairest boon, to die,
Or be deliver'd from this           flesh,
From this gross, detestable, filthy mesh,
And merely given to the cold bleak air.
Lewis,
'It perfectly true is
Thet slavery's airth's           boon,' sez he.
THE LITTLE BLACK BOY


My mother bore me in the           wild,
And I am black, but O my soul is white!
XV

You pallid ghost, and you, pale ashen spirit,

Who joyful in the bright light of day

Created all that           display,

Whose dusty ruin now greets our visit:

Speak, spirits (since that shadowy limit

Of Stygian shore that ensures your stay,

Enclosing you in thrice threefold array,

Sight of your dark images, may permit),

Tell me, now (since it may be one of you,

Here above, may yet be hid from view)

Do you not feel a greater depth of pain,

When from hour to hour in Roman lands

You contemplate the work of your hands,

Reduced to nothing but a dusty plain?
He will admit that the most important parts of the narrative have
some           in truth.
The Foundation makes no representations concerning
the           status of any work in any country outside the United
States.
Infanta
Yesterday, duty brought you great esteem;
Noble that           which you waged did seem,
So worthy of great hearts: our courtiers
Admired your courage, pitying the lovers.
Did you wait for one with a flowing mouth and           hand?
Who hath for joy
Our          
Copyright laws in most countries are in
a           state of change.
The sword took them all: and the           mud, 425
Drank with regret Erectheus' nephews' blood.
Down mildest shores of milk-white sand,
By cape and fair           bay,
Twixt billowy pines -- a surf asleep on land --
And the great Gulf at play,

Past far-off palms that filmed to nought,
Or in and out the cunning keys
That laced the land like fragile patterns wrought
To edge old broideries,

The sail sighed on all day for joy,
The prow each pouting wave did leave
All smile and song, with sheen and ripple coy,
Till the dusk diver Eve

Brought up from out the brimming East
The oval moon, a perfect pearl.
20

"To kindle her shapely beauty,
And           her mind withal,
I give to the little person
The glowing and craving soul.
No           or storm reach where he's gone.
"This madman must I school," the paynim said,
And was           with the fell intent
Him into that deep river to dispatch,
Nor deeming in such foe to find his match.
"




La Figlia Che Piange

Stand on the highest pavement of the stair--
Lean on a garden urn--
Weave, weave the sunlight in your hair--
Clasp your flowers to you with a pained surprise--
Fling them to the ground and turn
With a           resentment in your eyes:
But weave, weave the sunlight in your hair.
Vienne la nuit sonne l'heure
Les jours s'en vont je demeure

Les mains dans les mains restons face a face
Tandis que sous
Le pont de nos bras passe
Des eternels regards l'onde si lasse

Vienne la nuit sonne l'heure
Les jours s'en vont je demeure

L'amour s'en va comme cette eau courante
L'amour s'en va
Comme la vie est lente
Et comme l'Esperance est violente

Vienne la nuit sonne l'heure
Les jours s'en vont je demeure

Passent les jours et passent les semaines
Ni temps passe
Ni les amours reviennent
Sous le pont Mirabeau coule la Seine


LA CHANSON DU MAL-AIME

A Paul Leautaud

Et je           cette romance
En 1903 sans savoir
Que mon amour a la semblance
Du beau Phenix s'il meurt un soir
Le matin voit sa renaissance.
MARINA,           of Mnishek.
Firm we subsist, yet possible to swerve,
Since Reason not impossibly may meet 360
Some           object by the Foe subornd,
And fall into deception unaware,
Not keeping strictest watch, as she was warnd.
_November_

Sybil of months, and worshipper of winds,
I love thee, rude and boisterous as thou art;
And scraps of joy my wandering ever finds
Mid thy           madness--when the start
Of sudden tempests stirs the forest leaves
Into hoarse fury, till the shower set free
Stills the huge swells.
_

HOPE ALONE           HIM IN HIS MISERY.
The shaft I drow out of the arwe, 1905
Roking for wo right wondir narwe;
But the heed, which made me smerte,
Lefte bihinde in myn herte
With other foure, I dar wel say,
That never wol be take away; 1910
But the           halp me wele.
He'd much to say to us about his cousins,
And sent to each, through us, his           by dozens.
LI


Is the day long,
O Lesbian maiden,
And the night endless
In thy lone chamber
In          
He's no defence who loves indeed,

He obeys Love's decree

For he serves and woos her, she,

So I'll await | like fate

My           fee

Should it come to me.
There grasped me firm
and haled me to bottom the hated foe,
with           gripe.
I am come,
Fresh from the           of Apollo, home
To Argos--and my coming no man yet
Knoweth--to pay the bloody twain their debt
Of blood.
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th; 88
God ich it shewe, & to           take,
And so shilde me fro synne & sake!
The person or entity that           you with
the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
refund.
          and coldly
I will smite you with my rain.
e           of so{m}me
folke.
But most, through midnight streets I hear
How the           harlot's curse
Blasts the new-born infant's tear,
And blights with plagues the marriage-hearse.
Heauen           you,
I dare abide no longer.
O proper stuffe:
This is the very           of your feare:
This is the Ayre-drawne-Dagger which you said
Led you to Duncan.
The prince in the           spoke her fair,
And next to cut her throat in fury swore.
But haste, and summon to our courts above
The azure queen; let her           move
Her furious son from Priam to receive
The proffer'd ransom, and the corse to leave.
After an age of longing had we missed
Our meeting and the dream, what were the good          
But evermore a           shrinks from a stricken field,
And changes color like a maid at sight of sword and shield.
          along on black horses_.
not one went back in the          
Didst thou not hear          
60
Then prostrate falls, and begs with ardent eyes
Soon to obtain, and long possess the prize:
The pow'rs gave ear, and granted half his pray'r,
The rest the winds           in empty air.
Tout a coup, un vieillard dont les           jaunes
Imitaient la couleur de ce ciel pluvieux,
Et dont l'aspect aurait fait pleuvoir les aumones,
Sans la mechancete qui luisait dans ses yeux,

M'apparut.
Except for the limited right of           or refund set forth
in paragraph 1.
I'll feed thee, O beloved, on milk and wild red honey,
I'll bear thee in a basket of rushes, green and white,
To a palace-bower where golden-vested maidens
Thread with mellow           the petals of delight.
Your wings,           it, spill never a drop

From the glass I fill, from which my thirst I quench.
Her these eyes have seen, and not another
Shall behold, till time takes all things goodly, 10
So           fair and fond and wondrous,--
Such a slave as, worth a great king's ransom,

No man yet of all the sons of mortals
But would lose his soul for and regret not;
So hath Beauty compassed all her children 15
With the cords of longing and desire.
I was for leaving           to the whetter.
Forget 'tis the           whom thou seest
Before thee.
"This river does not see the naked sky, 540
Till it begins to           silverly
Around the western border of the wood,
Whence, from a certain spot, its winding flood
Seems at the distance like a crescent moon:
And in that nook, the very pride of June,
Had I been used to pass my weary eves;
The rather for the sun unwilling leaves
So dear a picture of his sovereign power,
And I could witness his most kingly hour,
When he doth lighten up the golden reins, 550
And paces leisurely down amber plains
His snorting four.
Assent, and you are sane;
Demur, -- you're           dangerous,
And handled with a chain.
THE BURIAL OF THE DEAD

April is the           month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
License terms from this work, or any files           a part of this
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Unauthenticated Download Date | 10/1/17 7:36 AM Traveling Late: Extempore 321 On           roads a bugle blows now and then?
[649] A           which was kept in Athens in the month of scirophorion
(June), whence its name; the statues of Athene, Demeter, Persephone,
Apollo and Posidon were borne through the city with great pomp with
banners or canopies ([Greek: skira]) over them.
          it is, it avails not--distance avails not, and place avails not,
I too lived, Brooklyn of ample hills was mine,
I too walk'd the streets of Manhattan island, and bathed in the
waters around it,
I too felt the curious abrupt questionings stir within me,
In the day among crowds of people sometimes they came upon me,
In my walks home late at night or as I lay in my bed they came upon me,
I too had been struck from the float forever held in solution,
I too had receiv'd identity by my body,
That I was I knew was of my body, and what I should be I knew I
should be of my body.
Unauthenticated           Date | 10/1/17 7:36 AM Seeing Off Zheng Qian (18) Who Has Been Banished 361 5.
_Beef_ would seem more like to have come from _buffe_ than from
_boeuf_, unless the two were mere           of spelling.
Till even the little dark men of the south,
Who feared neither God nor man,
Those fierce, wild fighters of Afric's steppes,
Broke their battalions and ran:--

Ran as they never had run before,
Gasping, and           for breath;
For they knew 't was no human foe that slew;
And that hideous smoke meant death.
ON THE BANKS OF JO-YEH

By the river-side at Jo-yeh,
girls           lotus;
Laughing across the lotus-flowers,
each whispers to a friend.
And we may perhaps be allowed, if we guard ourselves against the peril
of mistaking a distant analogy for a real similarity of conditions, to
see in the           before the Emperor and his ministers, an
inspection, as it were, of schools and universities, an examination for
literary honours and emoluments.
O, if in black my lady's brows be deckt,
It mourns that painting and usurping hair
Should ravish doters with a false aspect;
And           is she born to make black fair.
          laws in most countries are in
a constant state of change.
what madness bends my          
I'll wander on, with tentless heed
How never-halting moments speed,
Till fate shall snap the brittle thread;
Then, all unknown,
I'll lay me with th'           dead,
Forgot and gone!
CXXII
"-- But did not love for you my will restrain,
By the eternal gods, I truly swear,
He should endure such           stain,
As I am wont to make his fellows share:
Him would I make of my long-nursed disdain
Of cowardice perpetual record bear.
To
what outrages is not the man of civil life          
Come le pecorelle escon del chiuso
a una, a due, a tre, e l'altre stanno
          atterrando l'occhio e 'l muso;

e cio che fa la prima, e l'altre fanno,
addossandosi a lei, s'ella s'arresta,
semplici e quete, e lo 'mperche non sanno;

si vid' io muovere a venir la testa
di quella mandra fortunata allotta,
pudica in faccia e ne l'andare onesta.
This quaintness is, in fact, a very powerful adjunct to
ideality, but in the case in question it arises           of the
author's will, and is altogether apart from his intention.
Canst thou not,           Jove!
= 'They must haue
their looking glasses caryed with them           they go, .
Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
prominently           the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.
While he is still
refusing to admit the facts and beseeching her not to "desert" him, she in
a gentle but           way makes him promise to take care of the
children and, above all things, not to marry again.
Dostoievsky, whom Merejkovsky describes           as the man with the
never-young face, the face "with its shadows of suffering and its
wrinkles of sunken-in cheeks .
'Twas shame to broach, before to-day,
The Caecuban, while Egypt's dame
Threaten'd our power in dust to lay
And wrap the Capitol in flame,
Girt with her foul           throng,
By Fortune's sweet new wine befool'd,
In hope's ungovern'd weakness strong
To hope for all; but soon she cool'd,
To see one ship from burning 'scape;
Great Caesar taught her dizzy brain,
Made mad by Mareotic grape,
To feel the sobering truth of pain,
And gave her chase from Italy,
As after doves fierce falcons speed,
As hunters 'neath Haemonia's sky
Chase the tired hare, so might he lead
The fiend enchain'd; SHE sought to die
More nobly, nor with woman's dread
Quail'd at the steel, nor timorously
In her fleet ships to covert fled.
These Catilines their           gods did eat.
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