Thursday, August 02, 2012

Poem : To Live

Paul Éluard (Dec 14, 1895 - Nov 18, 1952)
was a French poet who was one of the founders of the surrealist movement.



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 snow 
Death and the betrothed 
The future with five fingers clenched and letting go 

My age always gave me 
New reasons for living through others 
For having the blood of man other's heart in mine 

Oh the lucid fellow I was and that I am 
Before the pallor of frail blind girls 
Lovelier than the delicate worn moon so fair 
By the reflection of life's ways 
A trail of moss anf trees 
Of mist and morning dew 
Of the young body which does not rise alone 
To its place on earth 
Wind cold and rain cradle it 
Summer makes a man of it 

Presesence is my virtue in each visible hand 
Only death is solitude 
From delight to fury from fury to clarity 
I make myself whole through all beings 
Through all weather on the earth and in the clouds 
Through the passing seasons I am young 
And strong for having lived 
I am young my blood rises over my ruins 

We have our hands to entwine Nothing can ever seduce better 
Tahn our bonding to each other a forest 
Returning earth to sky and the sky to night 

To the night which prepares an unending day. 




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