Francis Jammes Poems
|1.||Summer Of Roses||11/8/2012|
|2.||In The Foliage||11/8/2012|
|3.||The Farmer's Daughter||11/8/2012|
|5.||By The Yawning Door||11/8/2012|
|6.||There Are Days In June||11/8/2012|
|7.||With Feet At The Fire||11/8/2012|
|8.||The Old Village||11/8/2012|
|10.||You Would Be Naked||11/8/2012|
|11.||Madame De Warens||11/8/2012|
|13.||I Love ...||11/8/2012|
|14.||Prayer To Go To Paradise With The Asses||11/8/2012|
|15.||The Forest Paths||11/8/2012|
|16.||The Dead Child||11/8/2012|
|17.||Do Not Console Me||11/8/2012|
|18.||You Come When The Sun Sinks Low||11/8/2012|
|19.||The Cricket's Song||11/8/2012|
|20.||It Is Going To Snow||11/8/2012|
Comments about Francis Jammes
The Dead Child
A small house with a dog in front ...
O my love! Tonight, this rose is wet.
In the big park, by the rusty gate,
I walk with you in a timeless dream.
It drizzles outside; come here, come ... the wind
In the bay-trees sobs ... Oh! Don't be frightened!
Keep your little arms around my neck ...
Let us make our dead hearts living again.
Plunge with your soft eyes of dark violet
Into my sad and serious glance which reflects
My grief ... Hear my voice ... It is the death knell.
I lead her gently in her little dress,
The one I loved, my little dead ...
By The Yawning Door
By the yawning door, thick and studded and painted in green,
I saw a square of light which fell
On a budding branch. And I made these verses
To fix the moment of a dream
As I sat at the table, eating beans
With the ghosts of my mother and my wife,
But that life with its long flame burned out long ago,
Leaving only a black and white, solitary lily
On the floor.