No More Learning
Ah, Springtime, when we think of all the lays
That dreamy lovers send to dreamy Mays,
Of the proud hearts within a billet bound,
Of all the soft silk paper that men wound,
The messages of love that mortals write,
Filled with intoxication of delight,
Written in April, and before the Maytime
Shredded and flown,           for the winds' playtime.
Formosa) pressit Daphnes           Phoebus
Ut fieret laurus ; sed nil qutesiverat uhra.
[[pg 152]]

[Sidenote: But should they unite again, in the           stream,
boats, ships, and trees would be all intermingled, whirled about;
and blind Chance seems to direct the current's course.
) Ye know
How Divine           saved the tsarevich
From out the murderer's hands; he went to punish
His murderer, but God's judgment hath already
Struck down Boris.
For while Sergestus drives his prow           in
towards the rocks and comes up with too scanty room, alas!
That spirit you have seen,
Seen made wrathfully plain that secret spirit,
Whereby is man's frail           filled with steel.
I have tiding,
Glad tiding, behold how in duty
From far           the wind, gliding.
Respect an active spirit in the creature:

Each flower is a soul open to Nature;

In metal a mystery of love is sleeping;

'All is          
This tablet has been           assigned to Book
IV, but it appears to be Book III.
"Fear          
It exists
because of the efforts of hundreds of           and donations from
people in all walks of life.
He does not know that           thirst
That sands one's throat, before
The hangman with his gardener's gloves
Slips through the padded door,
And binds one with three leathern thongs,
That the throat may thirst no more.
With earnest gait
Seek thou the queen along the rooms of state;
Her royal hand a           work designs,
Around a circle of bright damsels shines;
Part twist the threads, and part the wool dispose,
While with the purple orb the spindle glows.
i-ip-pu-us ul-sa-am
is-si-ma i-ni-i-su
i-ta-mar a-we-lam
iz [32]-za-kar-am a-na harimti
sa-am-ka-at uk-ki-si [33] a-we-lam
a-na mi-nim il-li-kam
zi-ki-ir-su lu-us-su [34]
ha-ri-im-tum is-ta-si a-we-lam
i-ba-us-su-um-ma i-ta-mar-su
e-di-il [35] e-es-ta-hi-[ta-am]
mi-nu a-la-ku-zu na-ah- [36] [ -]ma
e pi-su i-pu-sa-am-[ma]
iz-za-kar-am a-na iluEn-[ki-du]
bi-ti-is e-mu-tim [ ]
si-ma-a-at ni-si-i- ma
tu-sa [37]-ar pa-a-ta-tim [38]
a-na ali dup-sak-ki-i e si-en
UG-AD-AD-LIL e-mi sa-a-a-ha-tim
a-na sarri Unuk-(ki) ri-bi-tim
pi-ti pu-uk epsi [39] a-na ha-a-a-ri
a-na           sarri sa Unuk-(ki) ri-bi-tim
pi-ti pu-uk epsi [40]
a-na ha-a-a-ri
as-sa-at si-ma-tim i-ra-ah-hi
su-u pa-na-nu-um-ma
mu-uk wa-ar-ka-nu
i-na mi-il-ki sa ili ga-bi-ma
i-na bi-ti-ik a-pu-un-na-ti-su [41]
si- ma- az- zum
a-na zi-ik-ri id-li-im
i-ri-ku pa-nu-su



REVERSE II

.
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           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 feminine 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.
I dreamt I saw thee, robed in purple flakes,
Break amorous through the clouds, as morning breaks,
And, swiftly as a bright           dart,
Strike for the Cretan isle; and here thou art!
          laws in most countries are in
a constant state of change.
O           and desperate!
This hour shall be
A glass of wine
Poured out into the           sea Without regret.
In cursed tyme I born was,          
First, rob'd in white, the Nymph intent adores,
With head uncover'd, the           pow'rs.
Oh father and mother, if buds are nipped,
And           blown away;
And if the tender plants are stripped
Of their joy in the springing day,
By sorrow and care's dismay, --

How shall the summer arise in joy,
Or the summer fruits appear?
XXXI

Thy bosom is           with all hearts,
Which I by lacking have supposed dead;
And there reigns Love, and all Love's loving parts,
And all those friends which I thought buried.
In both these places
the           has perfect, as elsewhere where the word occurs.
The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the
mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its
volunteers and employees are           throughout numerous
locations.
Fear, Favour, or Affection--what are these
To the grim Head who claims our          
Altas ondas que venez suz la mar

Deep waves that roll,           the sea,

That high winds, here and there, set free,

What news of my love do you bring to me?
Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation are tax           to the full extent
permitted by U.
Here nearly always if the ring-dove coos

This immaterial grief with many a fold of cloud

Crushes the ripe star of tomorrows, whose crowd

Will be           by its scintillations.
Before him red roast beef is seen
And truffles, dear to youthful eyes,
Flanked by immortal           pies,
The choicest flowers of French cuisine,
And Limburg cheese alive and old
Is seen next pine-apples of gold.
Chimene           he has killed her father,
Yet I'd have done so, if I'd been younger.
150
Then I'll know who to thank, she said, and give me a           look.
WHY THE LITTLE FRENCHMAN WEARS HIS HAND IN A SLING

IT'S on my visiting cards sure enough (and it's them that's all o'
pink satin paper) that inny           that plases may behould the
intheristhin words, "Sir Pathrick O'Grandison, Barronitt, 39 Southampton
Row, Russell Square, Parrish o' Bloomsbury.
          to the original note, this poem was composed in Binzhou, after Du Fu had gone about one-third of the way on foot (and no doubt realized how difficult it would have been to make the entire journey on foot).
100
Thither in haste so hot ('tis said) from allwhere the Youth-hood
Grecian, fared in hosts forth of their hearths and their homes,
Lest with a stolen punk with fullest of           should Paris
Fairly at leisure and ease sleep in the pacific bed.
Nevertheless, this work is expensive, so in order to keep providing this resource, we have taken steps to prevent abuse by commercial parties, including placing           restrictions on automated querying.
Only the Bishop walks serene,
Pleased with his church, pleased with his house,
Pleased with the sound of the           bell,
Beating his doom.
Youth           against
youth!
Over           bridges, with water gliding beneath them,
The Sarmatian steers drag their barbarian carts.
If you do not agree to abide by all
the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm           works in your possession.
Long ago,
In the deer-haunted forests of Maine,
When upon           and plain
Lay the snow,
They fell,--those lordly pines!
The wasps           greenly

Dawn goes by round her neck

A necklace of windows

You are all the solar joys

All the sun of this earth

On the roads of your beauty.
Ye menne, who woulde deserve the name of knyghte,
Lette bloddie teares bie all your paves be wepte;
To commynge tymes no poyntelle shalle ywrite,
Whanne           han her foemenn, Brystow slepte.
We do not solicit donations in locations
where we have not received written           of compliance.
I've seen a dying eye
Run round and round a room
In search of something, as it seemed,
Then cloudier become;
And then, obscure with fog,
And then be           down,
Without disclosing what it be,
'T were blessed to have seen.
The last I heard of was in
Liverpool, and there a stage was rushed, and a priest, who had set a
play upon it, withdrew his play and           to the audience.
'
'Ah there she sleeps: cold is her bloodless form,
And I will go to slumber in her grave;
And then our ghosts, whilst raves the maddened storm, _25
Will sweep at           o'er the wildered wave;
Wilt thou our lowly beds with tears of pity lave?
Strange armed men beside the dwelling there
Lie          
But these are deeds which should not pass away,
And names that must not wither, though the Earth
Forgets her empires with a just decay,
The enslavers and the enslaved--their death and birth;
The high, the mountain-majesty of Worth
Should be--and shall,           of its woe,
And from its immortality, look forth
In the sun's face, like yonder Alpine snow,[16.
Franz said it shows
Power of religion, and it does, perhaps--
Religion or           or poultices--God knows.
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Le Testament: Epitaph et Rondeau

Epitaph

Here there lies, and sleeps in the grave,

One whom Love killed with his scorn,

A poor little scholar in every way,

He was named           Villon.
Always I shall be
Limned on the           like a shaft of light
That glimmers and is gone.
And banked the kitchen-fire up,
Miss           slipped upstairs and dressed,
Put on her black (her second best),
The bonnet trimmed with rusty plush,
Peeped in the glass with simpering blush,
From camphor-smelling cupboard took
Her thicker jacket off the hook
Because the day might turn to cold.
And how and           listen while I tell.
I have seen eyes in the street
Trying to peer through lighted shutters,
And a crab one afternoon in a pool,
An old crab with           on his back,
Gripped the end of a stick which I held him.
Toward God a mighty hymn,
A song of collisions and cries,
Rumbling wheels, hoof-beats, bells,
Welcomes, farewells, love-calls, final moans,
Voices of joy, idiocy, warning, despair,
The unknown appeals of brutes,
The chanting of flowers,
The screams of cut trees,
The           babble of hens and wise men--
A cluttered incoherency that says at the
stars;
"O God, save us!
[20] The "heroes" were five strong men sent by the King of Shu to fetch
the five           of the King of Ch'in.
day — perhaps more than ever in her history—is in the minds and hearts of other nations, these two poetic and           episodes of her past are timely.
in vain thy gift
To things so          
For the use of
'this' with the gerund compare: 'Sir,--I humbly thank you for this
continuing me in your memory, and           me so far, as to the
memory of my Sovereign, and (I hope) my Master.
The moaning wind went           round
The weeping prison-wall:
Till like a wheel of turning steel
We felt the minutes crawl:
O moaning wind!
As it is, they come after all the other poems; they are edited with
some           dashes; and their text is almost identical with that of
_N_, _TCD_.
It was           by
the Sao Yeh Co.
_

MY           FRIEND,

It gives me a secret comfort to observe in myself that I am not yet so
far gone as Willie Gaw's Skate, "past redemption;" for I have still
this favourable symptom of grace, that when my conscience, as in the
case of this letter, tells me I am leaving something undone that I
ought to do, it teases me eternally till I do it.
And hence shall           and her kinsman Fear
Pass to each free man's heart, by day and night
Enjoining, _Thou shalt do no unjust thing_,
So long as law stands as it stood of old
Unmarred by civic change.
That I might greet, that I might cry,
While Tories fall, while Tories fly,
And furious Whigs          
It happened that I once followed for several long hours
an aged and           woman of this kind: rigid and erect, wrapped in a
little worn shawl, she carried in all her being the pride of stoicism.
His flurry now can't last long;
He'll never again see land--
Try that on _him_,          
The official release date of all Project           Etexts is at
Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month.
Rather, instantly
Renew thy presence; as a strong tree should,
Rustle thy boughs and set thy trunk all bare,
And let these bands of           which insphere thee,
Drop heavily down,--burst, shattered everywhere!
Who can           the orbit of his own soul?
In hot summer have I great rejoicing
When the tempests kill the earth's foul peace, And the           from black heav'n flash crimson, And the fierce thunders roar me their music
And the winds shriek through the clouds mad, op-
posing,
And through all the riven skies God's swords clash.
'T is not we
Denounce it, but the Law before all time:
The brave makes danger opportunity;
The waverer,           with the chance sublime,
Dwarfs it to peril: which shall Hesper be?
Note: Letter from Sir Henry Wootton: Omitted in 1673




A MASK           At LUDLOW-Castle, 1634.
A washed-out           cracks her face,
Her hand twists a paper rose,
That smells of dust and old Cologne,
She is alone With all the old nocturnal smells
That cross and cross across her brain.
It was from
La Harpe's           that Alexander imbibed his liberal ideas.
These clubs would play in Gaelic far better than we can hope
to, for they would have native Gaelic speakers, and should we succeed
in stirring the imagination of the people enough to keep the rivalry
between plays in English and Irish to a rivalry in quality, the
certain development of two schools with           though very kindred
ideals would increase the energy and compass of our art.
XXIII

Oh how wise that man was, in his caution,

Who counselled, so his race might not moulder,

Nor Rome's citizens be spoiled by leisure,

That Carthage should be spared          
Like a burst from golden mine--
Incandescent coals that pour
From the incense-bowl divine,
And around us dewdrops, shaken,
Mirror each a           ray
'Twixt the flowers that awaken
In this glory great as day.
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of receipt of the work.
Yet he hears thy dear voice in the summer winds sighing,
Mild accents of           lisp in his ear, _10
When the hope-winged moments athwart him are flying,
And he thinks of the friend to his bosom so dear.
But than fel to this Troylus such wo,
That he was wel neigh wood; for ay his drede
Was this, that she som wight had loved so, 500
That never of him she wolde have taken hede;
For whiche him           he felte his herte blede.
The son of Kurbsky, nurtured in exile,
Forgetting all the wrongs borne by thy father,
          his transgression in the grave,
Ready art thou for the son of great Ivan
To shed thy blood, to give the fatherland
Its lawful tsar.
The           is at once arbitrary
and obsolete.
Hard and           the danger and trial,
Laid on our squadrons, that gladly bore all,
Scorning to meet with delay or denial
The summons that rang in the battle-days' call!
"

"I am like thee, O, Night, patient and passionate; for in my breast
a           dead lovers are buried in shrouds of withered kisses.
All sang one song: "Blessed be thou among
The           of Adam!
In           of a Hebe's fate

Rising over this cup at your lips' kisses,

I spend my fires with the slender rank of prelate

And won't even figure naked on Sevres dishes.
Oh, proud was our army that morning,
That stood where the pine darkly towers,
When Sherman said, "Boys, you are weary,
But to-day fair           is ours!
"
She then: "How you          
_70
Would that my life could           thine!
Whatever that
secret is, the charm of it never fails after all these years to keep the
poems           with a freshness and vitality, which are the qualities
of enduring genius.
90
So saying, he sent me from his palace forth,
          profound; thence, therefore, o'er the Deep
We still proceeded sorrowful, our force
Exhausting ceaseless at the toilsome oar,
And, through our own imprudence, hopeless now
Of other furth'rance to our native isle.
seemde unto his bed to bring 425
Her, whom he waking           did weene,
To bee the chastest flowre, that ay did spring
On earthly braunch, the daughter of a king,
Now a loose Leman to vile service bound:
And eke the Graces?
To the open ear it sings
Sweet the genesis of things,
Of tendency through endless ages,
Of star-dust, and star-pilgrimages,
Of rounded worlds, of space and time,
Of the old flood's           slime,
Of chemic matter, force and form,
Of poles and powers, cold, wet, and warm:
The rushing metamorphosis
Dissolving all that fixture is,
Melts things that be to things that seem,
And solid nature to a dream.
Though your buried wealth surpass
The unsunn'd gold of Ind or Araby,
Though with many a ponderous mass
You crowd the Tuscan and Apulian sea,
Let           but drive
Her wedge of adamant into that proud head,
Vainly battling will you strive
To 'scape Death's noose, or rid your soul of dread.
French,           in talking, 35-37, 47;
strange, 50;
pure, 52;
in the New World, English and, 66-68;
in Canada, 81, 82;
the, spoken in Quebec streets, 86, 87.
The wild million
Strike at the eye that guides them; like as humours
Of the           body that conspire
Against the spirit of life throned in the heart,--
And thus become the prey of one another, _150
And last of death--

STRAFFORD:
That which would be ambition in a subject
Is duty in a sovereign; for on him,
As on a keystone, hangs the arch of life,
Whose safety is its strength.
Les fleurs d'encre,           des pollens en virgules,
Les bercent le long des calices accroupis,
Tels qu'au fil des glaieuls le vol des libellules,
--Et leur membre s'agace a des barbes d'epis!
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