Category: French
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Twenty-Two Poems by Paul Éluard
Fruits of the day brooded by the earth A woman a woman alone isn’t sleeping The windows are lying down.
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I’ve dreamed of you so many times that you don’t seem real anymore. Is there yet time to reach this living body and to kiss upon these lips the birth of a voice that is dear to me?
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Requiem for Léna by Hocine Tandjaoui
I’d described you in your death throes at dawn (cursed that June 1932 dawn) looking to the south legs resting on the sand your head lightly tipped back for you drank your champagne from the bottle yes from the bottle
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I’ve dreamed of you so many times that you’ve stopped being real. Can I still reach out and touch your living body? kiss on your lips the birthplace of the voice I so love?
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I’ve dreamed so much of you that you lose your reality. Is there still time to attain this living body and kiss on this mouth the birth of the voice I cherish?
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I dreamed of you so much that you became unreal. Is there still time to grasp your living body to kiss that lollipop mouth the birthplace of the voice I treasure?
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I’ve dreamed of you so much that you’ve become unreal. Is there time left to get to your living body and candy-kiss that mouth at the source of a voice so dear to me?
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I have dreamt of you so often you’ve lost your reality Is there still time to touch this living body and kiss this mouth, the birthplace of the voice so dear to me?
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Five Poems by Marianne Van Hirtum
A charming hint of witch! She is always accompanied by a child: love threatening total ruin.
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I’ve dreamt of you so often that you’re losing your reality. Is there still time to reach this living body and kiss on these lips the birth of the voice I treasure?
