Liberty by Paul Éluard

The poetry class was introduced to this tremendous poem by student Chantelle Quincy. It has so many techniques–anaphora (repeating the start of a line), listing, and refrain. It was written in occupied France, and in a way is a giant concrete poem or potry installation…written everywhere. Exquisite!

Paul Éluard
 

Liberty
Translated by A. S. Kline © 2001
 
On my notebooks from school
On my desk and the trees
On the sand on the snow
I write your name
 
On every page read
On all the white sheets
Stone blood paper or ash
I write your name
 
On the golden images
On the soldier’s weapons
On the crowns of kings
I write your name
 
On the jungle the desert
The nests and the bushes
On the echo of childhood
I write your name
 
On the wonder of nights
On the white bread of days
On the seasons engaged
I write your name
 
On all my blue rags
On the pond mildewed sun
On the lake living moon
I write your name
 
On the fields the horizon
The wings of the birds
On the windmill of shadows
I write your name

 
On the foam of the clouds
On the sweat of the storm
On dark insipid rain
I write your name
 
On the glittering forms
On the bells of colour
On physical truth
I write your name
 
On the wakened paths
On the opened ways
On the scattered places
I write your name
 
On the lamp that gives light
On the lamp that is drowned
On my house reunited
I write your name
 
On the bisected fruit
Of my mirror and room
On my bed’s empty shell
I write your name
 
On my dog greedy tender
On his listening ears
On his awkward paws
I write your name
 
On the sill of my door
On familiar things
On the fire’s sacred stream
I write your name
 
On all flesh that’s in tune
On the brows of my friends
On each hand that extends
I write your name
 
On the glass of surprises
On lips that attend
High over the silence
I write your name
 
On my ravaged refuges
On my fallen lighthouses
On the walls of my boredom
I write your name
 
On passionless absence
On naked solitude
On the marches of death
I write your name
 
On health that’s regained
On danger that’s past
On hope without memories
I write your name
 
By the power of the word
I regain my life
I was born to know you
And to name you
 
LIBERTY

http://www.poetryintranslation.com/PITBR/French/Eluard.htm

This entry was posted in Uncategorized by Miriam Sagan. Bookmark the permalink.

About Miriam Sagan

I'm blogging about poetry, land art, haiku, women artists, road trips, and Baba Yaga at Miriam's Well (https://miriamswell.wordpress.com). The well is ALWAYS looking to publish poetry on our themes, sudden fiction, and guest bloggers and musers.

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