Paul Eluard

Paul Eluard

Paul Éluard, born Eugène Émile Paul Grindel; 14 December 1895 – 18 November 1952), was a French poet and one of the founders of the Surrealist movement.
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#barely disfigured1 мин. чтения

Barely Disfigured

Adieu
Bonjour
Farewell
Hello

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#lady love1 мин. чтения

Lady Love

She is standing on my
And her hair is in my
She has the color of my
She has the body of my

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#the river1 мин. чтения

The River

The river I have under my tongue,
Unimaginable water, my little boat,
And curtains lowered, let's speak

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#fertile eyes1 мин. чтения

Fertile Eyes

Fertile
No one can know me
More than you know me Your eyes in which we
The two of

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#ecstasy2 мин. чтения

Ecstasy

I am in front of this feminine
Like a child in front of the
Smiling vaguely with tears in my
In front of this land where all moves in

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#our life1 мин. чтения

Our Life

We’ll not reach the goal one by one but in
We know in pairs we will know all about
We’ll love everything our children will
At the dark history or mourn alone

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#to live2 мин. чтения

To Live

We both have our hands to give Take mine I shall lead you afar I have lived several times my face has changed With every threshold I have crossed and every hand clasped Familial springtime was reborn Keeping for itself and for me its perishable sn...

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#new1 мин. чтения

In A New Night

Woman I’ve lived
Woman I live
Woman I’ll live
Always the

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#the1 мин. чтения

The Curve Of Your Eyes

The curve of your eyes embraces my heartA ring of sweetness and dancehalo of time, sure nocturnal cradle,
And if I no longer know all I have lived
It’s that your eyes have not always been mine
Leaves of day and moss of dew,

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#liberté2 мин. чтения

Liberté

On my school
On my desk and on the
On the sands of snowI write your
On the pages I have

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#five haiku1 мин. чтения

Five Haiku

The wind Undecided Rolls a cigarette of air The mute girl talks:
It is art's imperfection
This impenetrable speech
The motor car is truly launched:

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#the absence1 мин. чтения

The Absence

I speak to you across citiesI speak to you across plains My mouth is upon your pillow Both faces of the walls come
My voice discovering you I speak to you of eternity O cities memories of
Cities wrapped in our
Cities come early citi...

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