Paul Eluard Poems
|41.||The Curve Of Your Eyes||4/7/2010|
|42.||The Deaf And Blind||1/3/2003|
|43.||The Human Face||1/3/2003|
|44.||The Immediate Life||4/7/2010|
|45.||The Nakedness Of Truth (I Know It Well)||1/3/2003|
|47.||The Season Of Loves||4/7/2010|
|49.||The World Is Blue As An Orange||4/7/2010|
|50.||Thus, Woman, Principle Of Life, Speaker Of The Ideal||4/7/2010|
|52.||To Marc Chagall||4/7/2010|
|54.||We Have Created The Night||4/7/2010|
|56.||Your Orange Hair In The Void Of The World||4/7/2010|
At The Window
I have not always had this certainty, this pessimism which reassures the best among us. There was
a time when my friends laughed at me. I was not the master of my words. A certain indifference, I
have not always known well what I wanted to say, but most often it was because I had nothing to
say. The necessity of speaking and the desire not to be heard. My life hanging only by a thread.
There was a time when I seemed to understand nothing. My chains floated on the water.
All my desires are born of my dreams. And I have proven my love with words. To what ...
Rolls a cigarette of air
The mute girl talks:
It is art's imperfection.
This impenetrable speech.
The motor car is truly launched: