Paul Eluard (14 December 1895 – 18 November 1952 / Saint Denis / Paris)

What do you think this poem is about?

Hunted

A few grains of dust more or less
On ancient shoulders
Locks of weakness on weary foreheads
This theatre of honey and faded roses
Where incalcuable flies
Reply to the black signs that misery makes to them
Despairing girders of a bridge
Thrown across space
Thrown across every street and every house
Heavy wandering madnesses
That we shall end by knowing by heart
Mechanical appetites and uncontrolled dances
That lead to the regret of hatred

Nostalgia of justice

Paul Eluard
Submitted: Friday, January 03, 2003


Read poems about / on: justice, house, heart, dance, rose, hunting

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