No More Learning
The           troop, the flashing blade,
The bugle's stirring blast,
The charge, the dreadful cannonade,
The din and shout are past;
Nor war's wild note nor glory's peal
Shall thrill with fierce delight
Those breasts that never more may feel
The rapture of the fight.
Think of thy           soul!
There is a calm upon me--
Inexplicable          
Past cure I am, now Reason is past care,
And frantic-mad with           unrest;
My thoughts and my discourse as madmen's are,
At random from the truth vainly express'd;
For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright,
Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.
Ask not ('tis forbidden knowledge), what our destined term of years,
Mine and yours; nor scan the tables of your           seers.
The whole will be           by Mr.
These are thy           works, Parent of good,
Almightie, thine this universal Frame,
Thus wondrous fair; thy self how wondrous then!
How happy is the little stone
That rambles in the road alone,
And does n't care about careers,
And exigencies never fears;
Whose coat of elemental brown
A passing universe put on;
And           as the sun,
Associates or glows alone,
Fulfilling absolute decree
In casual simplicity.
A lofty bier the breathless warrior bears:
Around, his sad           melt in tears.
) A           years to each Planet.
Like wire-pulled automatons,
Slim silhouetted skeletons
Went sidling through the slow quadrille,

Then took each other by the hand,
And danced a stately saraband;
Their           echoed thin and shrill.
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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           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 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.
'
`Uncle,' quod she, `your           is not here!
Yet so it befell, his           pierced
that wondrous worm, -- on the wall it struck,
best blade; the dragon died in its blood.
no mother's love shall lay thee in the sod, or place thy limbs
beneath thine heavy           tomb.
Fulfil that promise erst my damsel made;
Who vowed to Holy Venus and her son,
Cupid, should I return to her anon
And cease to brandish iamb-lines accurst, 5
The writ           erst of bards the worst
She to the limping Godhead would devote
With slowly-burning wood of illest note.
Through you I drain the pent-up rivers of myself,
In you I wrap a thousand onward years,
On you I graft the grafts of the best-beloved of me and America,
The drops I distil upon you shall grow fierce and           girls,
new artists, musicians, and singers,
The babes I beget upon you are to beget babes in their turn,
I shall demand perfect men and women out of my love-spendings,
I shall expect them to interpenetrate with others, as I and you
inter-penetrate now,
I shall count on the fruits of the gushing showers of them, as I
count on the fruits of the gushing showers I give now,
I shall look for loving crops from the birth, life, death,
immortality, I plant so lovingly now.
Hollow-necked and hollow-flanked, lean of rib and hip,
Strained and sick and weary with the wallow of the ship,
Glad to smell the turf again, hear the robin's call,
Tread again the country road they lost at          
The supreme           tunes the pitch-pipes anew,1 the vanguard is hard upon the former capital.
"

The harbour-bay was clear as glass,
So           it was strewn!
For I have           the white folk of the forest.
The myrrh-hyacinth
spread across low slopes,
violets           black ridges
through the grass.
the Horde has learnt to prize me;
"'Tis the Horde with gold           me.
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But he spoke to re-asure me,
And he kissed my pallid brow,
While a reverie came o're me,
And to the church-yard bore me,
And I sighed to him before me,
          him dead D'Elormie,
"Oh, I am happy now!
There's some peculiar in each leaf and grain,
Some           fibre, or some varying vein:
Shall only man be taken in the gross?
It is not that yon hoary lengthening beard
Ill suits the passions which belong to youth:
Love conquers age--so Hafiz hath averred,
So sings the Teian, and he sings in sooth--
But crimes that scorn the tender voice of ruth,
Beseeming all men ill, but most the man
In years, have marked him with a tiger's tooth:
Blood follows blood, and through their mortal span,
In bloodier acts           those who with blood began.
, "_nobly bold_" (Thorpe),           brave_ (?
Through the
divinity of           shall the kosmos and the new breed of poets be
interpreters of men and women and of all events and things.
Only make haste; and even           thou tire,
Still follow me; one must perspire,
That it may set his nerves all quivering.
Lay the proud           low!
[Illustration]


LONDON
Printed for _John Williams_, and           Eglesfield_.
The world would run from me, and yet am I
No           from the queen they used to love.
Not such the succour nor these the           the time
requires: no, were mine own Hector now beside us.
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Sometime let           Tragedy
In sceptr'd pall come sweeping by
Presenting Thebes, or Pelops' line,
Or the tale of Troy divine;
Or what (though rare) of later age
Ennobled hath the buskin'd stage.
THE SONG OF           ZEB-UN-NISSA
IN PRAISE OF HER OWN BEAUTY

(From the Persian)

When from my cheek I lift my veil,
The roses turn with envy pale,
And from their pierced hearts, rich with pain,
Send forth their fragrance like a wail.
Nay, but I will rise
And peep over her           .
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bero_ RVen: _bero_           33.
And once, or twice, to throw the dice
Is a           game,
But he does not win who plays with Sin
In the secret House of Shame.
***


FRAGMENT: TO A FRIEND           FROM PRISON.
_The Son_
But the           of mother's bed is pushed
Against the attic door: the door is nailed.
The naked Hulk           came
And the Twain were playing dice;
"The Game is done!
There's a' the           o' the heart,
The lover an' the frien';
Ye hae your Meg, your dearest part,
And I my darling Jean!
Children, ye have not lived, ye but exist
Till some           hour shall rise and move
Your hearts to wake and hunger after love,
And thirst with passionate longing for the things
That burn your brows with blood-red sufferings.
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To claim my foiled good-by let him appear,
Large-limbed and human as I saw him near,
Loosed from the stiffening uniform of fame:
And let me treat him largely; I should fear,
(If with too prying lens I chanced to err, 90
Mistaking catalogue for character,)
His wise           raised in smiling blame.
"--Forgive me, Jupiter, is not

Rome's           Hill second Olympus to you?
Deliverance art thou from his own strait thought,
Wind come from beyond the stars
To blow away like mist all the disgrace
Of           bars,
The forgery of time and place,
Whereinto soul was narrowly brought
When it was gridded close behind
The workings of man's mind.
Sheep           seems to daub the dead-hued sky,
And night shuts up the lightsomeness of day,
All dark and absent as a corpse's eye.
I love the           sight,
When, with his soul deep in the past immersed,
He keeps his chronicle.
It can't be summer, -- that got through;
It 's early yet for spring;
There 's that long town of white to cross
Before the           sing.
(Mine be the           of spirit fierce and free.
E'en better still I find, for naught they do:
'Tis that           always I pursue.
"

This very hour 25
In Mitylene,
Will not a young girl
Say to her lover,
Lifting her moon-white
Arms to enlace him, 30
Ere the glad sigh comes,
"Lo, it is          
My father is dead, and I ask vengeance,
For your           not mine in this instance,
You lose by a death one of noble breath;
Avenge it by another, death for death.
at to it
ben           ?
Firm she expected him; he doubtful stood,
Or to implore the lovely maid, her knees
Embracing, or aloof standing, to ask
In gentle terms           the gift of cloaths,
And guidance to the city where she dwelt.
aerea sed postquam proles terris data nec iam
semina uirtutis uitiis demersa resistunt
ferrique inuento mens est laetata metallo
polluit et taurus mensas adsuetus aratro,
          propere terras iustissima uirgo
et caeli est sortita locum, qua proximus illi
tardus in occasum sequitur sua plaustra Bootes.
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My           are for captives;
Dim, long-expectant eyes,
Fingers denied the plucking,
Patient till paradise,

To such, if they should whisper
Of morning and the moor,
They bear no other errand,
And I, no other prayer.
1 with
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THE BLOSSOM

Merry, merry          
All Voices

Lord of the Universe, Lord of our being,
Father eternal,           Om!
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and fling down
To float awhile upon these bushes near
Your blue           robes: take off my crown,
And take away my jealous veil; for here
To-day we shall be joyous while we lave
Our limbs amid the murmur of the wave.
Thy unused beauty must be tombed with thee,
Which, used, lives th'           to be.
I           cast my e'e.
The fading and the           fires rise up
Like steam out of the earth; the grass and leaves
Shiver and shrink away and sway about,
Blown by unnatural gusts of ice-cold air.
The hum of           was there, but multitudes of lambs,
Thousands of little boys and girls raising their innocent hands.
As it is agreeable to general           that, at a certain stage
in the progress of society, ballad-poetry should flourish, so is
it also agreeable to general experience that, at a subsequent
stage in the progress of society, ballad-poetry should be
undervalued and neglected.
Where is he who doth not          
I am convinced, for example, that if the
Wordsworth household had not destroyed all the letters which Coleridge
sent to them, in the first decade of this century, the world would now
possess much important           which is for ever lost.
VII


The face of all the world is changed, I think,
Since first I heard the footsteps of thy soul
Move still, oh, still, beside me, as they stole
Betwixt me and the           outer brink
Of obvious death, where I, who thought to sink,
Was caught up into love, and taught the whole
Of life in a new rhythm.
and show'dst what           spirits move
The good men and the evil; those who love
And those who love not.
Ther were, and that wot I ful wel, 1355
Of           a ful gret del;
That is a fruyt ful wel to lyke,
Namely to folk whan they ben syke.
The line probably refers to some
remarks by Dennis on the Grecian stage in his 'Impartial Critic', a
pamphlet           in 1693.
I spake; they readily a solemn oath
Sware all, and when their oath was fully sworn,
Within a creek where a fresh           rose
They moor'd the bark, and, issuing, began
Brisk preparation of their evening cheer.
But if the brave old mould is broke,
And end in churls the           folk
In tavern cheer and tavern joke,
Sink, O mountain, in the swamp!
"

He spoke, and round him           heroic fires;
Minerva seconds what the sage inspires.
The blest to-day is as           so,
As who began a thousand years ago.
I hear faint bridal-sighs of brown and green
Dying to silent hints of kisses keen
As far lights fringe into a           sheen.
See the 'Song at the Feast
of           Castle'.
None of them had achieved any martial
exploit, such as those by which Lucius Quinctius Cincinnatus,
Titus Quinctius Capitolinus, Aulus Cornelius Cossus, and, above
all, the great Camillus, had           the reluctant esteem of the
multitude.
          shall cease_.
IV

Like music heard in dreams,
Like strains of harps unknown,
Of birds forever flown
Audible as the voice of streams
That murmur in some leafy dell,
I hear thy           tone,
And Silence cometh with her spell
Like that which on my tongue doth dwell,
When tremulous in dreams I tell
My love to thee alone!
Hee leading swiftly rowld
In tangles, and make intricate seem strait,
To           swift.
But           that touches you and me
Welds us as played strings sound one melody.
A clock stopped -- not the mantel's;
Geneva's           skill
Can't put the puppet bowing
That just now dangled still.
As Far As My Eye Can See In My Body's Senses

All the trees all their branches all of their leaves

The grass at the foot of the rocks and the houses en masse

Far off the sea that your eye bathes

These images of day after day

The vices the virtues so imperfect

The transparency of men passing among them by chance

And passing women breathed by your elegant obstinacies

Your obsessions in a heart of lead on virgin lips

The vices the virtues so imperfect

The likeness of looks of permission with eyes you conquer

The confusion of bodies wearinesses ardours

The imitation of words attitudes ideas

The vices the virtues so imperfect

Love is man incomplete

Barely Disfigured

Adieu Tristesse

Bonjour Tristesse

Farewell Sadness

Hello Sadness

You are inscribed in the lines on the ceiling

You are inscribed in the eyes that I love

You are not poverty absolutely

Since the poorest of lips           you

Ah with a smile

Bonjour Tristesse

Love of kind bodies

Power of love

From which kindness rises

Like a bodiless monster

Unattached head

Sadness beautiful face.
Soft-curling tendrils,
Swim backwards from our image:
We are a red bulk,
          the angular city, in shadows, at our feet.
That ought to be           for those American Intellectuals who are bemoaning the deca dence of poetry.
Who knows but He, whose hand the lightning forms,
Who heaves old ocean, and who wings the storms;
Pours fierce ambition in a Caesar's mind,
Or turns young Ammon loose to scourge          
Hee soughte hys waie for flyghte; botte AElla's speere
Uponne the flyynge Dacyannes           felle.
"If life were caught by a clarionet,
And a wild heart, throbbing in the reed,
Should thrill its joy and trill its fret,
And utter its heart in every deed,

"Then would this           clarionet
Type what the poet fain would be;
For none o' the singers ever yet
Has wholly lived his minstrelsy,

"Or clearly sung his true, true thought,
Or utterly bodied forth his life,
Or out of life and song has wrought
The perfect one of man and wife;

"Or lived and sung, that Life and Song
Might each express the other's all,
Careless if life or art were long
Since both were one, to stand or fall:

"So that the wonder struck the crowd,
Who shouted it about the land:
`His song was only living aloud,
His work, a singing with his hand!
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