from La Vie immédiate (1932) [“Immediate Life”]
Translated from the French by Ross Belot & Sara Burant
UNIVERSE-SOLITUDE
I
Fruits of the day brooded by the earth
A woman a woman alone isn’t sleeping
The windows are lying down.
II
Every night a woman
Travels in great secrecy.
III
Villages of lassitude
Where the girls have bare arms
Like fountains
In them youthfulness grows
And laughter on tiptoe.
Villages of lassitude
Where everybody is the same.
IV
To see the eyes we lock ourselves into
And the laughter where we take our seat.
V
Insects enter here
Chirring shadows of the fire
A rusted out flame
Tarnishes sleep
Its bed of flesh and its virtues.
VI
I want to kiss you I kiss you
I want to leave you you’re bored
But at the edge of our strength
You don armor more dangerous than a gun.
VII
The mountain the sea and the beautiful bather
In the house of the poor
Thousands upon thousands of dark lamps are hidden
From the faded sky which shades them.
A field of reflections encloses tears
Closes the eyes
All is fulfilled.
In the wake of the images
The body of light rolls toward other dreams.
VIII
The body and secular honors
Unbelievable conspiracy
Of angles soft as wings
— But the hand that caresses me
My laughter opens it
My throat holds it back
Removes it.
Unbelievable conspiracy
Of discoveries and surprises.
IX
Phantom of your nudity
Phantom child of your simplicity
Puerile ringmaster carnal sleep
Of imaginary freedoms.
X
Feather of clear water fragile rain
Coolness veiled with touch
With glances and words
Love veiling what I love.
XI
To this breath to yesterday’s sun
That meets your lips
This fresh caress
To run the light seas of your modest reserve
To fashion in shadow
The mirrors of jasmine
The problem of calm.
XII
A porcelain song claps its hands
Then begs and dies in pieces
You will remember it naked and poor
Morning of wolves and their bite is a tunnel
From which you emerge in a dress of blood
To blush at night
So many of the living to find
So many lights to extinguish
I will call you Visual
And will multiply your likeness.
XIII
Disarmed
She isn’t aware of enemies anymore.
XIV
Sorceress with a forehead of glass
Her heart set in a black star
Her eyes reveal her face
Her eyes are the coolness of summer
The heat of winter
Her lace-like eyes laugh wildly
Her playful eyes earn their share of clarity.
XV
She stretches out
To feel less alone.
XVI
It’s getting light I’ve covered myself
As if to leave the day
Anger under the atrocious sign
Of jealousy the wisest
Injustice
Chase away this dark sky
Break its windows
Give them to the stones to eat
This false dark sky
Heavy and impure.
XVII
Coming down to you I admired
The space occupied by time
Our memories transported me
You’re running out of space
Always to be with me.
XVIII
Tearing apart her kisses and fears
She wakes up at night
To be amazed by all that’s replaced her.
XIX
At the quay of these branches
The navigators do not thrive
Eyelids lowered by the brilliance the echo of fire
At the quay of bare legs
Piercing the body in mute shadow
The trail of temptations is lost.
Rivers lose themselves only in the country of water
The sea has collapsed under its leisurely sky
Seated you refuse to follow me
What do you risk love makes pain laugh
And shout from the rooftops the impotence of the world.
Loneliness is cool to your motionless throat
I looked at your hands they’re the same
You’re able to cross them
You can hold on to yourself
That’s good— since you’re the only one I am alone.
XX
A dethroned prison
In mid-air
A window ablaze
Where lightning displays its breasts
A completely green night
In this loneliness no one smiles
Here the fire sleeps standing up
Passing through me.
But this blaze is useless
I know how to smile
Absurd head
That doesn’t want death to dry up desire
Head absolutely free
Forever keeping its gaze and its smile.
If I live today
If I’m not alone
If someone comes to the window
And if I am that window
If someone comes
Those new eyes don’t see me
Don’t know what I think
Refuse to be my accomplices
And in order to love separate.
XXI
In light of the death penalty
Flee with an innocent face.
Through a mist of trailing branches
Through the fixed stars
The ephemeral reigns.
Time the wool of ivory
Rolling along a road of wax.
XXII
Behind me my eyes have closed
The light is burned the night decapitated
Birds larger than the winds
No longer know where to perch.
In disabled torments in wrinkles of laughter
I’m no longer looking for my likeness
Life has collapsed my images are deaf
All the world’s refusals have said their last word
They no longer meet they ignore each other
I’m alone I’m alone all alone
I’ve never changed.
Along with André Breton, Philippe Soupault, and Louis Aragon, Paul Éluard helped shape the early Surrealist movement in France. He authored more than 30 poetry collections, including Capitale de la Douleur (1926) and La Rose Publique(1934), and co-authored the seminal Surrealist work L’Immaculée Conception (1930) with Breton. Éluard also collaborated with visual artists such as Max Ernst, Joan Miró, and Pablo Picasso, and produced essays, anthologies, and translations. Contemporary readers may be drawn to his collaborative spirit, his Surrealist imagery, or the clarity and lucidity of his vision.
Residing in Hamilton, Ontario, poet Ross Belot has been a finalist for the CBC Poetry Prize and a recipient of a Canada Council for the Arts grant. His most recent collection is Moving To Climate Change Hours. Sara Burant lives in Eugene, Oregon. Her work has been recognized with fellowships from Oregon’s Literary Arts and Playa. She’s the author of a chapbook, Verge. They met and were introduced to Paul Éluard’s work while pursuing late-in-life MFAs in Poetry at St. Mary’s College of California.
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