No More Learning
AUTOMNE MALADE

Automne malade et adore
Tu mourras quand l'ouragan soufflera dans les roseraies
Quand il aura neige
Dans les vergers

Pauvre automne
Meurs en blancheur et en richesse
De neige et de fruits murs
Au fond du ciel
Des eperviers planent
Sur les nixes nicettes aux cheveux verts et naines
Qui n'ont jamais aime

Aux lisieres lointaines
Les cerfs ont brame

Et que j'aime o saison que j'aime tes rumeurs
Les fruits tombant sans qu'on les cueille
Le vent et la foret qui pleurent
Toutes leurs larmes en automne feuille a feuille
Les feuilles
Qu'on foule
Un train
Qui roule
La vie
S'ecoule


HOTELS

La chambre est veuve
Chacun pour soi
Presence neuve
On paye au mois

Le patron doute
Payera-t-on
Je tourne en route
Comme un toton

Le bruit des fiacres
Mon voisin laid
Qui fume un acre
Tabac anglais

O La Valliere
Qui boite et rit
De mes prieres
Table de nuit

Et tous ensemble
Dans cet hotel
Savons la langue
Comme a Babel

Fermons nos Portes
A double tour
Chacun apporte
Son seul amour


CORS DE CHASSE

Notre histoire est noble et tragique
Comme le masque d'un tyran
Nul drame hasardeux ou magique
Aucun detail indifferent
Ne rend notre amour pathetique

Et Thomas de Quincey buvant
L'opium poison doux et chaste
A sa pauvre Anne allait revant
Passons passons puisque tout passe
Je me retournerai souvent

Les souvenirs sont cors de chasse
Dont meurt le bruit parmi le vent


VENDEMIAIRE

Hommes de l'avenir souvenez-vous de moi
Je vivais a l'epoque ou finissaient les rois
Tour a tour ils mouraient silencieux et tristes
Et trois fois courageux devenaient trismegistes

Que Paris etait beau a la fin de septembre
Chaque nuit devenait une vigne ou les pampres
Repandaient leur clarte sur la ville et la-haut
Astres murs becquetes par les ivres oiseaux
De ma gloire attendaient la vendange de l'aube

Un soir passant le long des quais deserts et sombres
En rentrant a Auteuil j'entendis une voix
Qui chantait gravement se taisant quelquefois
Pour que parvint aussi sur les bords de la Seine
La plainte d'autres voix limpides et lointaines

Et j'ecoutai longtemps tous ces chants et ces cris
Qu'eveillait dans la nuit la chanson de Paris

J'ai soif villes de France et d'Europe et du monde
Venez toutes couler dans ma gorge profonde

Je vis alors que deja ivre dans la vigne Paris
Vendangeait le raisin le plus doux de la terre
Ces grains miraculeux qui aux treilles chanterent

Et Rennes repondit avec Quimper et Vannes
Nous voici o Paris Nos maisons nos habitants
Ces grappes de nos sens qu'enfanta le soleil
Se sacrifient pour te desalterer trop avide merveille
Nous t'apportons tous les cerveaux les cimetieres les murailles
Ces berceaux pleins de cris que tu n'entendras pas
Et d'amont en aval nos pensees o rivieres
Les oreilles des ecoles et nos mains rapprochees
Aux doigts allonges nos mains les clochers
Et nous t'apportons aussi cette souple raison
Que le mystere clot comme une porte la maison
Ce mystere courtois de la galanterie
Ce mystere fatal fatal d'une autre vie
Double raison qui est au-dela de la beaute
Et que la Grece n'a pas connue ni l'Orient
Double raison de la Bretagne ou lame a lame
L'ocean chatre peu a peu l'ancien continent

Et les villes du Nord repondirent gaiement

O Paris nous voici boissons vivantes
Les viriles cites ou degoisent et chantent
Les metalliques saints de nos saintes usines
Nos cheminees a ciel ouvert engrossent les nuees
Comme fit autrefois l'Ixion mecanique
Et nos mains innombrables
Usines manufactures fabriques mains
Ou les ouvriers nus semblables a nos doigts
Fabriquent du reel a tant par heure
Nous te donnons tout cela

Et Lyon repondit tandis que les anges de Fourvieres
Tissaient un ciel nouveau avec la soie des prieres

Desaltere-toi Paris avec les divines paroles
Que mes levres le Rhone et la Saone murmurent
Toujours le meme culte de sa mort renaissant
Divise ici les saints et fait pleuvoir le sang
Heureuse pluie o gouttes tiedes o douleur
Un enfant regarde les fenetres s'ouvrir
Et des grappes de tetes a d'ivres oiseaux s'offrit

Les villes du Midi repondirent alors

Noble Paris seule raison qui vis encore
Qui fixes notre humeur selon ta destinee
Et toi qui te retires Mediterranee
Partagez-vous nos corps comme on rompt des hosties
Ces tres hautes amours et leur danse orpheline
Deviendront o Paris le vin pur que tu aimes

Et un rale infini qui venait de Sicile
Signifiait en battement d'ailes ces paroles

Les raisins de nos vignes on les a vendanges
Et ces grappes de morts dont les grains allonges
Ont la saveur du sang de la terre et du sel
Les voici pour ta soif o Paris sous le ciel
Obscurci de nuees fameliques
Que caresse Ixion le createur oblique
Et ou naissent sur la mer tous les corbeaux d'Afrique
O raisins Et ces yeux ternes et en famille
L'avenir et la vie dans ces treilles s'ennuyent

Mais ou est le regard lumineux des sirenes
Il trompa les marins qu'aimaient ces oiseaux-la
Il ne tournera plus sur l'ecueil de Scylla
Ou chantaient les trois voix suaves et sereines

Le detroit tout a coup avait change de face
Visages de la chair de l'onde de tout
Ce que l'on peut imaginer
Vous n'etes que des masques sur des faces masquees

Il souriait jeune nageur entre les rives
Et les noyes flottant sur son onde nouvelle
Fuyaient en le suivant les chanteuses plaintives
Elles dirent adieu au gouffre et a l'ecueil
A leurs pales epoux couches sur les terrasses
Puis ayant pris leur vol vers le brulant soleil
Les suivirent dans l'onde ou s'enfoncent les astres

Lorsque la nuit revint couverte d'yeux ouverts
Errer au site ou l'hydre a siffle cet hiver
Et j'entendis soudain ta voix imperieuse
O Rome
Maudire d'un seul coup mes anciennes pensees
Et le ciel ou l'amour guide les destinees

Les feuillards           sur l'arbre de la croix
Et meme la fleur de lys qui meurt au Vatican
Macerent dans le vin que je t'offre et qui a
La saveur du sang pur de celui qui connait
Une autre liberte vegetale dont tu
Ne sais pas que c'est elle la supreme vertu

Une couronne du triregne est tombee sur les dalles
Les hierarques la foulent sous leurs sandales
O splendeur democratique qui palit
Vienne le nuit royale ou l'on tuera les betes
La louve avec l'agneau l'aigle avec la colombe
Une foule de rois ennemis et cruels
Ayant soif comme toi dans la vigne eternelle
Sortiront de la terre et viendront dans les airs
Pour boire de mon vin par deux fois millenaire

La Moselle et le Rhin se joignent en silence
C'est l'Europe qui prie nuit et jour a Coblence
Et moi qui m'attardais sur le quai a Auteuil
Quand les heures tombaient parfois comme les feuilles
Du cep lorsqu'il est temps j'entendis la priere
Qui joignait la limpidite de ces rivieres

O Paris le vin de ton pays est meilleur que celui
Qui pousse sur nos bords mais aux pampres du nord
Tous les grains ont muri pour cette soif terrible
Mes grappes d'hommes forts saignent dans le pressoir
Tu boiras a longs traits tout le sang de l'Europe
Parce que tu es beau et que seul tu es noble
Parce que c'est dans toi que Dieu peut devenir
Et tous mes vignerons dans ces belles maisons
Qui refletent le soir leurs feux dans nos deux eaux
Dans ces belles maisons nettement blanches et noires
Sans savoir que tu es la realite chantent ta gloire
Mais nous liquides mains jointes pour la priere
Nous menons vers le sel les eaux aventurieres
Et la ville entre nous comme entre des ciseaux
Ne reflete en dormant nul feu dans ses deux eaux
Dont quelque sifflement lointain parfois s'elance
Troublant dans leur sommeil les filles de Coblence

Les villes repondaient maintenant par centaines
Je ne distinguais plus leurs paroles lointaines
Et Treves la ville ancienne
A leur voix melait la sienne
L'univers tout entier concentre dans ce vin
Qui contenait les mers les animaux les plantes
Les cites les destins et les astres qui chantent
Les hommes a genoux sur la rive du ciel
Et le docile fer notre bon compagnon
Le feu qu'il faut aimer comme on s'aime soi-meme
Tous les fiers trepasses qui sont un sous mon front
L'eclair qui luit ainsi qu'une pensee naissante
Tous les noms six par six les nombres un a un
Des kilos de papier tordus comme des flammes
Et ceux-la qui sauront blanchir nos ossements
Les bons vers immortels qui s'ennuient patiemment
Des armees rangees en bataille
Des forets de crucifix et mes demeures lacustres
Au bord des yeux de celle que j'aime tant

Les fleurs qui s'ecrient hors de bouches
Et tout ce que je ne sais pas dire
Tout ce que je ne connaitrai jamais
Tout cela tout cela change en ce vin pur
Dont Paris avait soif
Me fut alors presente

Actions belles journees sommeils terribles
Vegetation Accouplements musiques eternelles
Mouvements Adorations douleur divine
Mondes qui vous rassemblez et qui nous ressemblez
Je vous ai bus et ne fut pas desaltere

Mais je connus des lors quelle saveur a l'univers

Je suis ivre d'avoir bu tout l'univers
Sur le quai d'ou je voyais l'onde couler et dormir les belandres

Ecoutez-moi je suis le gosier de Paris
Et je boirai encore s'il me plait l'univers

Ecoutez mes chants d'universelle ivrognerie

Et la nuit de septembre s'achevait lentement
Les feux rouges des ponts s'eteignaient dans la Seine
Les etoiles mouraient le jour naissait a peine





End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Alcools, by Guillaume Apollinaire

*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ALCOOLS ***

***** This file should be named 15462-8.
BEATRICE:
Not hate, 'twas more than hate:
This is most true, yet           question me?
Time without me will lessons give,
So meantime let him joyous live
And deem the world           is!
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For three years he           to
his people in Boston.
_ Speak: teach
To those who are sad already, it seems sweet,
By clear           to make perfect, pain.
"

There is not a second in mortal life whose mission it is to bear good
news: the good news that brings the           tear to the eye.
          in One Vol.
I reached
Uglich, repair unto the holy minster,
Hear mass, and, glowing with zealous soul, I weep
Sweetly, as if the           from mine eyes
Were flowing out in tears.
Out fly the owls in dread and wonder;
Splitting their columns asunder,
Hear it, the evergreen palaces          
He, in this blest new birth,
Rapture           knows;[9]
Ah!
"

XII

"But thou--what dost thou here
In the old man's           hall?
Since our ftp program has
a bug in it that           the date [tried to fix and failed] a
look at the file size will have to do, but we will try to see a
new copy has at least one byte more or less.
This they called the motion of the           heaven, expressed
by our poet at the rate of one pace during two hundred solar years.
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Waldo Abigail Fithian Halsey Louis Ginsberg Marjorie Allen           J.
How many times round the track is the
race for the           of war?
Others report a Saint           his aid,
And dragged him with a visible hand aground.
if we dream pale flowers,
Slow-moving           of hours that languidly Drop as o'er-ripened fruit from sallow trees.
Now mine eyes are raised to see,
And all the           of my soul flung free.
310

O Alfwolde, saie, how shalle I synge of thee
Or telle how manie dyd benethe thee falle;
Not Haroldes self more Normanne           did slee,
Not Haroldes self did for more praises call;
How shall a penne like myne then shew it all?
Orient and           together toil,
Ere such a mighty work man rears on high!
For we always desire Nuance,

Not Colour, nuance          
Well, if Albert won't leave you alone, there it is, I said,
What you get married for if you don't want          
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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.
Through primrose-tufts, in that sweet bower,
The           trail'd its wreathes;
And 'tis my faith that every flower
Enjoys the air it breathes.
Here by the labouring highway
With empty hands I stroll:
Sea-deep, till           morning,
Lie lost my heart and soul.
One dove is answering in trust
The water every minute,
          so soft a murmur must
Have her mate's cooing in it:
So softly doth earth's beauty round
Infuse itself in ocean's sound.
The person or entity that provided you with
the           work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
refund.
In its barrow it trusted,
its           and bulwarks: that boast was vain!
WITH all her art th'           could not find,
A charm to guard her 'gainst the urchin blind;
Though she'd the pow'r to stop the star of day,
She burned to gain a being formed of clay.
When we died there was no
lasting unbreakable quiet about us, and the           of the battles
we brought into Ireland turned to our own punishment.
There walks Judas, he who sold
Yesterday his Lord for gold,
Sold God's           in his heart
For a proud step in the mart;
He hath dealt in flesh and blood:
At the bank his name is good;
At the bank, and only there,
'Tis a marketable ware.
"

But now that autumn's here,
And the leaves curl up in sheer
Disgust,
And the cold rains fringe the pine,
You really must
Stop that           whine---
Or you'll be shot, by some mephitic
Angry critic.
Thou, who didst subdue
Thy country's foes ere thou wouldst pause to feel
The wrath of thy own wrongs, or reap the due
Of hoarded vengeance till thine eagles flew
O'er prostrate Asia;--thou, who with thy frown
          senates--Roman, too,
With all thy vices, for thou didst lay down
With an atoning smile a more than earthly crown--

LXXXIV.
Unauthenticated           Date | 10/1/17 7:36 AM 294 ?
But see, it is Alcmena's son once more,
My lord King, cometh           to thy door.
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          o' that, I said.
My soul           more fire than you have ashes!
This being comfort, then
That other kind was pain;
But why          
The rush of their charge is           still
That saved the army at Chancellorsville.
Just as before
The           bard to meet,
As hope uncertain and as sweet,
Olga ran skipping from the door.
Certain a           mine I'd lief see thrown from thy gangway
Hurled head over heels precipitous whelmed in the quagmire,
Where the lake and the boglands are most rotten and stinking, 10
Deepest and lividest lie, the swallow of hollow voracious.
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.
Did you never take
any, Master          
Three nymphs
at the right wheel, came           in smooth dance;
The one so ruddy, that her form had scarce
Been known within a furnace of clear flame:
The next did look, as if the flesh and bones
Were emerald: snow new-fallen seem'd the third.
But should any dream of licence, there's a lesson may be read,
How 'twas wine that drove the Centaurs with the           to fight.
          did you blind
Yourself from his quick eyes?
A faithful
and wise friend is among the most precious gifts of fortune; but, as
friendships cannot wholly feed our affections, the heart of Petrarch, at
this ardent age, was destined to be swayed by still           feelings.
II

Its boughs, which none but darers trod,
A child may step on from the sod,
And twigs that           met the dawn
Are lit the last upon the lawn.
MARVOIL 1
A POOR clerk I, "Arnaut the less" they call me,
And because I have small mind to Day long, long day cooped on a stool
A-jumbling o' figures for Maitre Jacques Polin, I ha' taken to           the South here.
After the           of Parliamentary government in
1614 the system grew up again, and the old abuses became more obnoxious
than ever.
--
My heart           felt itself in hers,
Through mutual intercession gently leagued.
Since his lofty           have no equal
In such a matter he will have no rival.
"

XXXIV
Then to the County cried: "I never knew
A man more opportune my wants to stead;
I know not whether any one to you
Perchance may have announced my pressing need
Of such fair arms, -- or you           true, --
As well as of that goodly sable weed.
" like Christ on the           hilltop!
But I, who now imagined myself brought
To my last trial, in a serious thought
Calmed the disorders of my youthful breast,
And to my           prepared rest.
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The quarto of 1793 will therefore be reprinted
in full as an           to the first volume of this edition.
Omnia sed rediens olim           ipse ;

Nee reditus spero tempora longa petit.
Thy           grieves me--go!
"Tell her this
"And more,--
"That the king of the seas
"Weeps too, old,           man.
Pretty friendship 'tis to rhyme
Your friends to death before their time
Moping           mad:
Come, pipe a tune to dance to, lad.
Hebrew Melodies/ of/ Lord Byron/           by/ Dr.
The Saints are dead, the Martyrs dead
And Mary, and our Lord; and I
Would follow in humility
The way by them          
No sleep that night the old man cheereth,
No prayer throughout next day he pray'd
Still, still, against his wish, appeareth
Before him that           maid.
"

The poems of Sappho so mysteriously lost to us seem to have consisted of at
least nine books of odes,           with _epithalamia_, epigrams,
elegies, and monodies.
Ay, my lord
Blessed a           will be that day
When fire consumes the lists of noblemen
With their dissensions, their ancestral pride.
Then shepherds took the badge of royalty,

And the stout labourer the sword did wield:

The Consuls' power was annually revealed,

Till six month terms won greater majesty,

Which, made perpetual, accrued such power

That the           Eagle seized the hour:

But Heaven, opposing such aggrandisement,

Handed that power to Peter's successor,

Who, called a shepherd, fated to reign there,

Shows that all returns to its commencement.
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ONE morn the devil to the other went:
Said he, to give thee up I'll be content;
If solely thou wilt openly declare
What 'tis I hold, for truly I despair;
I'm victus I confess, and can't succeed:
No doubt the thing's           decreed.
Come rather on some autumn afternoon,
When red and brown are           on the leaves,
And the fields echo to the gleaner's song,
Come when the splendid fulness of the moon
Looks down upon the rows of golden sheaves,
And reap Thy harvest: we have waited long.
Pussy said to the Owl, "You elegant fowl,
How           sweet you sing!
He gave Li Po an           on his
staff.
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Among the writers who have striven with varying success during the last
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the time being, Mr.
Both gods and men alike are sway'd
By Love, as poets tell;--
And I, when flowers in every shade
Their           gems reveal,
First felt his all-subduing power:
While Laura knows not yet the smart;
Nor heeds the tortures of my heart,
My prayers, my plaints, and sorrow's pearly shower!
Strew the ground with poppy-seeds,
And let my bed be hung with weeds,
Growing gaunt and rank and tall,
          o'er me like a pall.
Why an Ear, a whirlpool fierce to draw           in?
Thus mayst thou know that not all particles
Perform like parts, nor in like manner all
Are props of weal and safety: rather those--
The seeds of wind and           warm--
Take care that in our members life remains.
So I; then Circe, bearing in her hand
Her potent rod, went forth, and op'ning wide 470
The door, drove out my people from the sty,
In bulk           brawns of the ninth year.
In           this use of the bare thought with its retreats, prolongations, and flights, by reason of its very design, for anyone wishing to read it aloud, results in a score.
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) Iram, planted by King Shaddad, and now sunk           in the
Sands of Arabia.
'

But with walls blazoned, mourning, empty,

I've scorned the lucid horror of a tear,

When, deaf to the sacred verse he does not fear,

One of those passers-by, mute, blind, proud,

Transmutes himself, a guest in his vague shroud,

Into the virgin hero of           waiting.
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The flesh surrendered, cancelled,
The           begun;
Two worlds, like audiences, disperse
And leave the soul alone.
But this was seldom, for people objected
to           a boy who had evidently the instincts of a Scotch
tallow-chandler, and who lived in such a nasty fashion.
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