No More Learning

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           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 feminine land
We'll not reach the goal one by one but in pairs
From the sea to the source

Logo
SEARCHCONTACTABOUTHOME
Paul Eluard
Sixteen More Poems
Contents

First Line Index

Download

Home
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.
The
mysterious           of the wind in the trees, whether in calm or storm.
In the 1140s he was a           for the Reconquista, of Spain from the Moors.
Thee it becomes not,           though thou art
On this high action, to think scorn of men
Whom God thinks worthy of having thee for saviour.
I have           all day for a grain of some sort, and
there is none to be found.
_ The whole term of her           has she heard.
This is a digital copy of a book that was preserved for           on library shelves before it was carefully scanned by Google as part of a project to make the world's books discoverable online.
Nam, quod scriptorum non magnast copia apud me,
Hoc fit, quod Romae vivimus: illa domus,
Illa mihi sedes, illic mea           aetas: 35
Huc una ex multis capsula me sequitur.
_He_ had left her, peradventure, when my           proved my coming,
But for _her_--she half arose, then sate, grew scarlet and grew pale.
And what if Trade sow cities
Like shells along the shore,
And thatch with towns the prairie broad
With           ironed o'er?
Perhaps no writer who has given such strong proofs of the poetic nature
has left less           poetry than Thomson.
]

SI           RAPIDIS.
Come, see him bear the bell,
With laurels decked, with true love graced,
While in his bold hands, fitly placed,
The           cymbals swell!
Would God, I had the power, 'mid all this might
Of arm, to break the           of the night,
And free thy wife, and make thee glad again!
And I, could I stand by
And see you freeze,
Without my right of frost,
Death's          
23229), which is a very
miscellaneous collection of fragments,           to the Museum by John
Wilson Croker, contains two other portions of what seem to have been
similar small 'books' of Donne's poems.
And if I do, when morning comes,
It is as if a hundred drums
Did round my pillow roll,
And shouts fill all my           sky,
And bells keep saying 'victory'
From steeples in my soul!
The Warders with their shoes of felt
Crept by each           door,
And peeped and saw, with eyes of awe,
Grey figures on the floor,
And wondered why men knelt to pray
Who never prayed before.
*
And now just Heaven 's           to set us free,
Heaven and our hopes are both opposed by

thee.
Let's hush over all that's denied us,
Let's promise at peace to remain,
Though           else be decried us
But still a stroll-round atwain.
Note: Dante Gabriel           took Archipiades to be Hipparchia (see Diogenes Laertius, Lives of the Philosophers, Book VI 96-98) who loved Crates the Theban Cynic philosopher (368/5-288/5BC) and of whom various tales are told suggesting her beauty, and independence of mind.
_D:_ there _1633-69_]

[40 where, _1633:_ where: _1635-69_, _owing to the dropping of
stop in           line_]

[42 State.
You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form,           any
word processing or hypertext form.
then swift be heart and brain, to see
God's          
Believe me, it's enough to quench your fires:
He's           who loses what he desires.
          flies from me; but the third is
my plague, worse than the ten plagues of Egypt.
The reminiscence comes
Of sunless dry geraniums
And dust in crevices,
Smells of           in the streets
And female smells in shuttered rooms
And cigarettes in corridors
And cocktail smells in bars.
Feel I not always her          
If some
imitations, however, have been successful, how many other epics of
ancient and modern times have hurried down the stream of          
What Pope says of the 'Aeneid' may be applied
with very literal truth to these poems:--


Finish'd the whole, and           every part
With patient touches of unwearied art.
For           deglutition
I yield the fruit of work severe.
er ben put in
vertue {and}           a?
For whom bind'st thou
In wreaths thy golden hair,
Plain in thy          
Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
License as           in paragraph 1.
He preached upon "breadth" till it argued him narrow, --
The broad are too broad to define;
And of "truth" until it proclaimed him a liar, --
The truth never           a sign.
"


V

Figures twain, morose and baleful,
And on all-fours slowly creeping,
Break themselves a gloomy passage
Through the           at midnight.
And so by a natural           Pope comes to
speak of his own satiric poems and their aims.
The Fathers of the City,
They sat all night and day,
For every hour some           come
With tidings of dismay.
Leesce qui nel' haoit mie,
L'envoisie, la bien chantans,
Qui des lors qu'el n'ot que sept ans
De s'amor li donna l'otroi;
Deduit la tint parmi le doi 840
A la karole, et ele lui,
Bien s'entr'amoient ambedui:
Car il iert biaus, et ele bele,
Bien           rose novele
De sa color.
One thing there is alone, that doth deform thee;
In the midst of thee, O field, so fair and          
With winds and           and great crowns
Of shining cloud, with wheeling plover
And short grass sweet with the small white clover,
Miss Thompson lived, correct and meek,
A lonely spinster, and every week
On market-day she used to go
Into the little town below,
Tucked in the great downs' hollow bowl
Like pebbles gathered in a shoal.
3, a full refund of
any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
electronic work is discovered and           to you within 90 days of
receipt of the work.
s old men, supporting the throne,2 his           thoughts recall Emperor Yao.
--
Pure shrubs, with tender verdure newly dress'd,--
Pale amorous violets,--leafy woods, whose reign
Thy sun's bright rays transpierce, and thus sustain
Your lofty stature, and           crest;--
O thou, fair country, and thou, crystal stream,
Which bathes her countenance and sparkling eyes,
Stealing fresh lustre from their living beam;
How do I envy thee these precious ties!
Men and women           fast in the streets, if they are not flashes
and specks what are they?
LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
written explanation to the person you           the work from.
Without the diche were listes made,
With walles           large and brade, 4200
For men and hors shulde not atteyne
To neigh the diche over the pleyne.
Mighty subduer of cities, Discretion, O           of nations,

Goddess whom I adore, safely you've led me thus far.
But when, with all his fleet
The wide sea traversing, he reach'd at length 370
Malea's lofty           in his course,
Rough passage, then, and perilous he found.
With melted snow I boil fragrant tea;
          with curds I cook a milk-pudding.
THE PASSION OF LOVE


This craving 'tis that's Venus unto us:
From this, engender all the lures of love,
From this, O first hath into human hearts
          that drop of joyance which ere long
Is by chill care succeeded.
But say
That Death be not one stroak, as I suppos'd,
Bereaving sense, but endless miserie 810
From this day onward, which I feel begun
Both in me, and without me, and so last
To perpetuitie; Ay me, that fear
Comes thundring back with dreadful revolution
On my defensless head; both Death and I
Am found Eternal, and           both,
Nor I on my part single, in mee all
Posteritie stands curst: Fair Patrimonie
That I must leave ye, Sons; O were I able
To waste it all my self, and leave ye none!
net


Title: The Rape of the Lock and Other Poems

Author: Alexander Pope

Posting Date: December 8, 2011 [EBook #9800]
Release Date: January, 2006
First Posted: October 18, 2003

Language: English


*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RAPE OF LOCK AND OTHER POEMS ***




Produced by Clytie Siddall, Charles Aldarondo, Tiffany
Vergon and the Online           Proofreading Team.
The moon is deaf to thy low           fate;
Or dost thou think so to possess the night,
And people the drear dark with thy brave sprite?
Special rules,
set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
copying and           Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.
Yourself were first the blameless cause to make
My nature's prideful sparkle in the blood
Break into furious flame; being repulsed
By Yniol and yourself, I schemed and wrought
Until I           him; then set up
(With one main purpose ever at my heart)
My haughty jousts, and took a paramour;
Did her mock-honour as the fairest fair,
And, toppling over all antagonism,
So waxed in pride, that I believed myself
Unconquerable, for I was wellnigh mad:
And, but for my main purpose in these jousts,
I should have slain your father, seized yourself.
I say, two old men have come from the abode of men to propose a
vast and           scheme to us.
Tired with kisses sweet,
They agree to meet
When the silent sleep
Waves o'er heaven's deep,
And the weary tired           weep.
" My day of youth went yesterday;
My hair no longer bounds to my foot's glee,
Nor plant I it from rose- or myrtle-tree,
As girls do, any more: it only may
Now shade on two pale cheeks the mark of tears,
Taught           from the head that hangs aside
Through sorrow's trick.
She bought the steed, and as Aurora shot
Her rosy rays, rode forth with spear and shield:
And maid and courier through a valley wind,
          now before and now behind.
Credi per certo che se dentro a l'alvo
di questa fiamma stessi ben mille anni,
non ti           far d'un capel calvo.
--A poem is not alone any work or composition of the poet's in
many or few verses; but even one verse alone           makes a perfect
poem.
Yea, thou and I who speak, are but the joy
Of our for ever mated spirits; but now
The wisdom of my           even through Spirit
Looks, divinely elate.
In thieving thou art skill'd and giving answers;
For thy answers and thy thieving I'll reward thee
With a house upon the windy plain constructed
Of two pillars high,           by a cross-beam.
whose sides transfixt
With sonnes own blade, her fowle           spoke; 445
Faire Sthenoboea,?
_ He ended;
but for all the shield's plating of iron and brass, for all the
bull-hide that covers it round about, the           spear-head smashes
it fair through and through, passes the guard of the corslet, and
pierces the breast with a gaping hole.
LXII


Play up, play up thy silver flute;
The           all are brave;
Glad is the red autumnal earth
And the blue sea.
He           deep regret for
all that had occurred, declared it was all his fault, and begged me to
forget the past.
The Sirens
          and the Sirens

'Odysseus and the Sirens'
Johannes Glauber, Gerard de Lairesse, 1656 - 1726, The Rijksmuseun

Do I know where your ennui's from, Sirens,

When you grieve so widely under the stars?
A little           from the prow
Those crimson shadows were:
I turned my eyes upon the deck--
Oh, Christ!
Das ist von           gelungen!
The palm and may make country houses gay,
Lambs frisk and play, the           pipe all day,
And we hear aye birds tune their merry lay,
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!
None of his
work written in these veins has any value as literature; but the skill
with which this mere lad not eighteen years old gauged the taste
of the town and imitated all branches of popular literature would
probably have no           in the history of journalism should such a
history ever come to be written.
The azure vault in silver           soft,
A dewy breeze with fragrance soars aloft.
He ceas'd, whom all applauded, and at once
Each sent his herald forth to bring the gifts, 490
When thus           his Sire address'd.
'

D'Ewes also in           the procession of King James from Whitehall
to Westminster, Jan.
"

CLXXIV

But Rollant felt that death had made a way
Down from his head till on his heart it lay;
Beneath a pine running in haste he came,
On the green grass he lay there on his face;
His olifant and sword beneath him placed,
Turning his head towards the pagan race,
Now this he did, in truth, that Charles might say
(As he desired) and all the Franks his race;--
'Ah, gentle count;           he was slain!
if you see the purple shoon,
The hazel crook, the lad's brown hair,
The goat-skin wrapped about his arm,
Tell him that I am waiting where
The           glimmers in the Farm.
"_

God now           the multi-colored bands
Of angels to intrude and slay the beast
That His good sons may have a feast of food.
"

Seven queens shone round her ivory bed,
Like seven soft gems on a silken thread,

Like seven fair lamps in a royal tower,
Like seven bright petals of Beauty's flower

Queen Gulnaar sighed like a           rose
"Where is my rival, O King Feroz?
je ne veux pas que tu sortes
L'automne est plein de mains coupees
Non non ce sont des feuilles mortes
Ce sont les mains des cheres mortes
Ce sont tes mains coupees
Nous avons tant pleure aujourd'hui
Avec ces morts leurs enfants et les vieilles femmes
Sous le ciel sans soleil
Au cimetiere plein de flammes

Puis dans le vent nous nous en retournames

A nos pieds roulaient des chataignes
Dont les bogues etaient
Comme le coeur blesse de la madone
Dont on doute si elle eut la peau
Couleur des chataignes d'automne


Les sapins

Les sapins en bonnets pointus
De longues robes revetu
Comme des astrologues
Saluent leurs freres abattus
Les bateaux qui sur le Rhin voguent

Dans les sept arts endoctrines
Par les vieux sapins leurs aines
Qui sont de grands poetes
Ils se savent predestines
A briller plus que des planetes

A briller doucement changes
En etoiles et enneiges
Aux Noels bienheureuses
Fetes des sapins ensonges
Aux longues branches langoureuses

Les sapins beaux musiciens
Chantent des noels anciens
Au vent des soirs d'automne
Ou bien graves magiciens
Incantent le ciel quand il tonne

Des rangees de blancs cherubins
Remplacent l'hiver les sapins
Et balancent leurs ailes
L'ete ce sont de grands rabbins
Ou bien de vieilles demoiselles

Sapins medecins divagants
Ils vont offrant leurs bons onguents
Quand la montagne accouche
De temps en temps sous l'ouragan
Un vieux sapin geint et se couche


Les femmes

Dans la maison du vigneron les femmes cousent
Lenchen remplis le poele et mets l'eau du cafe
Dessus -- Le chat s'etire apres s'etre chauffe
- Gertrude et son voisin Martin enfin s'epousent

Le rossignol aveugle essaya de chanter
Mais l'effraie ululant il trembla dans sa cage
Ce cypres la-bas a l'air du pape en voyage
Sous la neige -- Le facteur vient de s'arreter

Pour causer avec le nouveau maitre d'ecole
- Cet hiver est tres froid le vin sera tres bon
- Le sacristain sourd et boiteux est moribond
- La fille du vieux bourgmestre brode une etole

Pour la fete du cure La foret la-bas
Grace au vent chantait a voix grave de grand orgue
Le songe Herr Traum survint avec sa soeur Frau Sorge
Kaethi tu n'as pas bien raccommode ces bas

- Apporte le cafe le beurre et les tartines
La marmelade le saindoux un pot de lait
- Encore un peu de cafe Lenchen s'il te plait
- On dirait que le vent dit des phrases latines

- Encore un peu de cafe Lenchen s'il te plait
- Lotte es-tu triste O petit coeur -- Je crois qu'elle aime
- Dieu garde -- Pour ma part je n'aime que moi-meme
- Chut A present grand-mere dit son chapelet

- Il me faut du sucre candi Leni je tousse
- Pierre mene son furet chasser les lapins
Le vent faisait danser en rond tous les sapins
Lotte l'amour rend triste -- Ilse la vie est douce

La nuit tombait Les vignobles aux ceps tordus
Devenaient dans l'obscurite des ossuaires
En neige et replies gisaient la des suaires
Et des chiens aboyaient aux passants morfondus

Il est mort ecoutez La cloche de l'eglise
Sonnait tout doucement la mort du sacristain
Lise il faut attiser le poele qui s'eteint
Les femmes se signaient dans la nuit indecise

Septembre 1901 -- mai 1902


SIGNE

Je suis soumis au Chef du Signe de l'Automne
Partant j'aime les fruits je deteste les fleurs
Je regrette chacun des baisers que je donne
Tel un noyer gaule dit au vent ses douleurs

Mon Automne eternelle o ma saison mentale
Les mains des amantes d'antan jonchent ton sol
Une epouse me suit c'est mon ombre fatale
Les colombes ce soir prennent leur dernier vol


UN SOIR

Un aigle descendit de ce ciel blanc d'archanges
Et vous soutenez-moi
Laisserez-vous trembler longtemps toutes ces lampes
Priez priez pour moi

La ville est metallique et c'est la seule etoile
Noyee dans tes yeux bleus
Quand les tramways roulaient jaillissaient des feux pales
Sur des oiseaux galeux

Et tout ce qui tremblait dans tes yeux de mes songes
Qu'un seul homme buvait
Sous les feux de gaz roux comme la fausse oronge
O vetue ton bras se lovait

Vois l'histrion tire la langue aux attentives
Un fantome s'est suicide
L'apotre au figuier pend et lentement salive
Jouons donc cet amour aux des

Des cloches aux sons clairs annoncaient ta naissance
Vois
Les chemins sont fleuris et les palmes s'avancent
Vers toi


LA DAME

Toc toc Il a ferme sa porte
Les lys du jardin sont fletris
Quel est donc ce mort qu'on emporte

Tu viens de toquer a sa porte
Et trotte trotte
Trotte la petite souris


LES FIANCAILLES

A Picasso

Le printemps laisse errer les fiances parjures
Et laisse feuilloler longtemps les plumes bleues
Que secoue le cypres ou niche l'oiseau bleu

Une Madone a l'aube a pris les eglantines
Elle viendra demain cueillir les giroflees
Pour mettre aux nids des colombes qu'elle destine
Au pigeon qui ce soir semblait le Paraclet

Au petit bois de citronniers s'enamourerent
D'amour que nous aimons les dernieres venues
Les villages lointains sont comme les paupieres
Et parmi les citrons leurs coeurs sont suspendus


Mes amis m'ont enfin avoue leur mepris

Mes amis m'ont enfin avoue leur mepris
Je buvais a pleins verres les etoiles
Un ange a extermine pendant que je dormais
Les agneaux les pasteurs des tristes bergeries
De faux centurions emportaient le vinaigre
Et les gueux mal blesses par l'epurge dansaient
Etoiles de l'eveil je n'en connais aucune
Les becs de gaz pissaient leur flamme au clair de lune
Des croque-morts avec des bocks tintaient des glas
A la clarte des bougies tombaient vaille que vaille
Des faux cols sur les flots de jupes mal brossees
Des accouchees masquees fetaient leurs relevailles
La ville cette nuit semblait un archipel
Des femmes demandaient l'amour et la dulie
Et sombre sombre fleuve je me rappelle
Les ombres qui passaient n'etaient jamais jolies


Je n'ai plus meme pitie de moi

Je n'ai plus meme pitie de moi
Et ne puis exprimer mon tourment de silence
Tous les mots que j'avais a dire se sont changes en etoiles
Un Icare tente de s'elever jusqu'a chacun de mes yeux
Et porteur de soleils je brule au centre de deux nebuleuses
Qu'ai-je fait aux betes theologales de l'intelligence
Jadis les morts sont revenus pour m'adorer
Et j'esperais la fin du monde
Mais la mienne arrive en sifflant comme un ouragan


J'ai eu le courage de regarder en arriere

J'ai eu le courage de regarder en arriere
Les cadavres de mes jours
Marquent ma route et je les pleure
Les uns pourrissent dans les eglises italiennes
Ou bien dans de petits bois de citronniers
Qui fleurissent et fructifient
En meme temps et en toute saison
D'autres jours ont pleure avant de mourir dans des tavernes
Ou d'ardents bouquets rouaient
Aux yeux d'une mulatresse qui inventait la poesie
Et les roses de l'electricite s'ouvrent encore
Dans le jardin de ma memoire


Pardonnez-moi mon ignorance

Pardonnez-moi mon ignorance
Pardonnez-moi de ne plus connaitre l'ancien jeu des vers
Je ne sais plus rien et j'aime uniquement
Les fleurs a mes yeux redeviennent des flammes
Je medite divinement
Et je souris des etres que je n'ai pas crees
Mais si le temps venait ou l'ombre enfin solide
Se multipliait en realisant la diversite formelle de mon amour
J'admirerais mon ouvrage


J'observe le repos du dimanche

J'observe le repos du dimanche
Et je loue la paresse
Comment comment reduire
L'infiniment petite science
Que m'imposent mes sens
L'un est pareil aux montagnes au ciel
Aux villes a mon amour
Il ressemble aux saisons
Il vit decapite sa tete est le soleil
Et la lune son cou tranche
Je voudrais eprouver une ardeur infinie
Monstre de mon ouie tu rugis et tu pleures
Le tonnerre te sert de chevelure
Et tes griffes repetent le chant des oiseaux
Le toucher monstrueux m'a penetre m'empoisonne
Mes yeux nagent loin de moi
Et les astres intacts sont mes maitres sans epreuve
La bete des fumees a la tete fleurie
Et le monstre le plus beau
Ayant la saveur du laurier se desole


A la fin les           ne me font plus peur

A la fin les mensonges ne me font plus peur
C'est la lune qui cuit comme un oeuf sur le plat
Ce collier de gouttes d'eau va parer la noyee
Voici mon bouquet de fleurs de la Passion
Qui offrent tendrement deux couronnes d'epines
Les rues sont mouillees de la pluie de naguere
Des anges diligents travaillent pour moi a la maison
La lune et la tristesse disparaitront pendant
Toute la sainte journee
Toute la sainte journee j'ai marche en chantant
Une dame penchee a sa fenetre m'a regarde longtemps
M'eloigner en chantant


Au tournant d'une rue je vis des matelots

Au tournant d'une rue je vis des matelots
Qui dansaient le cou nu au son d'un accordeon
J'ai tout donne au soleil
Tout sauf mon ombre

Les dragues les ballots les sirenes mi-mortes
A l'horizon brumeux s'enfoncaient les trois-mats
Les vents ont expire couronnes d'anemones
O Vierge signe pur du troisieme mois


Templiers flamboyants je brule parmi vous

Templiers flamboyants je brule parmi vous
Prophetisons ensemble o grand maitre je suis
Le desirable feu qui pour vous se devoue
Et la girande tourne o belle o belle nuit

Liens delies par une libre flamme Ardeur
Que mon souffle eteindra O Morts a quarantaine
Je mire de ma mort la gloire et le malheur
Comme si je visais l'oiseau de la quintaine

Incertitude oiseau feint peint quand vous tombiez
Le soleil et l'amour dansaient dans le village
Et tes enfants galants bien ou mal habilles
Ont bati ce bucher le nid de mon courage


CLAIR DE LUNE

Lune mellifluente aux levres des dements
Les vergers et les bourgs cette nuit sont gourmands
Les astres assez bien figurent les abeilles
De ce miel lumineux qui degoutte des treilles
Car voici que tout doux et leur tombant du ciel
Chaque rayon de lune est un rayon de miel
Or cache je concois la tres douce aventure
J'ai peur du dard de feu de cette abeille Arcture
Qui posa dans mes mains des rayons decevants
Et prit son miel lunaire a la rose des vents


1909

La dame avait une robe
En ottoman violine
Et sa tunique brodee d'or
Etait composee de deux panneaux
S'attachant sur l'epaule

Les yeux dansants comme des anges
Elle riait elle riait
Elle avait un visage aux couleurs de France
Les yeux bleus les dents blanches et les levres tres rouges
Elle avait un visage aux couleurs de France

Elle etait decolletee en rond
Et coiffee a la Recamier
Avec de beaux bras nus

N'entendra-t-on jamais sonner minuit

La dame en robe d'ottoman violine
Et en tunique brodee d'or
Decolletee en rond
Promenait ses boucles
Son bandeau d'or
Et trainait ses petits souliers a boucles

Elle etait si belle
Que tu n'aurais pas ose l'aimer

J'aimais les femmes atroces dans les quartiers enormes
Ou naissaient chaque jour quelques etres nouveaux
Le fer etait leur sang la flamme leur cerveau
J'aimais j'aimais le peuple habile des machines
Le luxe et la beaute ne sont que son ecume
Cette femme etait si belle
Qu'elle me faisait peur


A LA SANTE

I

Avant d'entrer dans ma cellule
Il a fallu me mettre nu
Et quelle voix sinistre ulule
Guillaume qu'es-tu devenu

Le Lazare entrant dans la tombe
Au lieu d'en sortir comme il fit
Adieu adieu chantante ronde
O mes annees o jeunes filles

II

Non je ne me sens plus la
Moi-meme
Je suis le quinze de la
Onzieme

Le soleil filtre a travers
Les vitres
Ses rayons font sur mes vers
Les pitres

Et dansent sur le papier
J'ecoute
Quelqu'un qui frappe du pied
La voute

III

Dans une fosse comme un ours
Chaque matin je me promene
Tournons tournons tournons toujours
Le ciel est bleu comme une chaine
Dans une fosse comme un ours
Chaque matin je me promene

Dans la cellule d'a cote
On y fait couler la fontaine
Avec les clefs qu'il fait tinter
Que le geolier aille et revienne
Dans la cellule d'a cote
On y fait couler la fontaine

IV

Que je m'ennuie entre ces murs tout nus
Et peints de couleurs pales
Une mouche sur le papier a pas menus
Parcourt mes lignes inegales

Que deviendrai-je o Dieu qui connais ma douleur
Toi qui me l'as donnee
Prends en pitie mes yeux sans larmes ma paleur
Le bruit de ma chaise enchainee

Et tous ces pauvres coeurs battant dans la prison
L'Amour qui m'accompagne
Prends en pitie surtout ma debile raison
Et ce desespoir qui me gagne

V

Que lentement passent les heures
Comme passe un enterrement

Tu pleureras l'heure ou tu pleures
Qui passera trop vitement
Comme passent toutes les heures

VI

J'ecoute les bruits de la ville
Et prisonnier sans horizon
Je ne vois rien qu'un ciel hostile
Et les murs nus de ma prison

Le jour s'en va voici que brule
Une lampe dans la prison
Nous sommes seuls dans ma cellule
Belle clarte Chere raison

Septembre 1911.
"

"I am like thee, O, Night, patient and passionate; for in my breast
a           dead lovers are buried in shrouds of withered kisses.
I love
To stretch me often on thy shadowed sward,
And hear the laugh of summer leaves above;
Or on thy buttressed roots to sit, and lean
In           attitude, and there reflect
On times, and deeds, and darings that have been--
Old castaways, now swallowed in neglect;
While thou art towering in thy strength of heart,
Stirring the soul to vain imaginings,
In which life's sordid being hath no part.
Yet all is well; he has but passed
To Life's appointed bourne:
And alien tears will fill for him
Pity's long-broken urn,
For his           will be outcast men,
And outcasts always mourn.
This may refer to the death of An Lushan, also           fat.
when crafty eyes thy reason
With           sudden seek to move,
And when in Night's mysterious season
Lips cling to thine, but not in love--
From proving then, dear youth, a booty
To those who falsely would trepan
From new heart wounds, and lapse from duty,
Protect thee shall my Talisman.
han thy cause bin good and true,
Thou wouldst such           acts as these eschew.
[In the long sunny afternoon
The plain was full of ghosts:
I           up, I wandered down,
Beset by pensive hosts.
hoc           a
c.
And where the purple Nullahs threw
Their branches far and wide,
And silvery Goreewallahs flew
In silence, side by side,
The little Bheesties'           cry
Rose on the flagrant air,
And oft the angry Jampan howled
Deep in his hateful lair.
See the moss-growne daisey'd banke, 95
          ynne the streme belowe;
Here we'lle sytte, yn dewie danke;
Tourne thee, Alyce, do notte goe.
When we began to tire of           play
We seemed still more and more to prize each other:
We talked of marriage and our marriage day;
And I in truth did love him like a brother,
For never could I hope to meet with such another.
O rustle not, ye verdant oaken          
He, who sits high above the rest, and seems
To have neglected that he should have done,
And to the others' song moves not his lip,
The Emperor Rodolph call, who might have heal'd
The wounds whereof fair Italy hath died,
So that by others she revives but slowly,
He, who with kindly visage           him,
Sway'd in that country, where the water springs,
That Moldaw's river to the Elbe, and Elbe
Rolls to the ocean: Ottocar his name:
Who in his swaddling clothes was of more worth
Than Winceslaus his son, a bearded man,
Pamper'd with rank luxuriousness and ease.
29) says that 'overlashing
in apparel is so common a fault, that the verye hyerlings of
some of our plaiers, which stand at           of vi^s by
the weeke, jet under gentlemens noses in sutes of silke.
Burns, that the
"handsome, elegant present"           in this letter, was a common
worsted shawl.
And in a valour lessening Arthur^s deeds,
For holiness the           exceeds.
Fortunate in all
his affairs, he was most of all           in his family.
On his head a bonnet blue,
Bonnie laddie,           laddie;
His royal heart was firm and true,
Bonnie Highland laddie.
CCXXXVII

That even-tide is light as was the day;
Their armour shines beneath the sun's clear ray,
Hauberks and helms throw off a dazzling flame,
And blazoned shields,           in bright array,
Also their spears, with golden ensigns gay.
 2370/3078