L'exil.(Translation) . Poem by Michael Walker

L'exil.(Translation) .

Mes mains n'ont pas touche le plaisir depuis tes mains, -
Non, -ni mes levres ont-ils libere le rire depuis 'au revoir',
Et de jour, la distance augmente encore
Sans voix entre nous, comme une ecaille pas enroulee.

Cependant, l'amour dure, bien qu'affame et tout seul.
Les ailes d'une colombe se collaient autour de mon coeur chaque nuit
D'une douceur deferlante, et la pierre bleue
Sertie dans l'anneau de rendez-vous s'est habillee plus brillante.

- ' Exile'.Hart Crane(1899-1932) .

Friday, December 7, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: love
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
Poem Hunter/ H. Crane/ poems and life/ 6/38.
This is a love poem to his partner from whom he is exiled. They are far away from each other. His hands have not felt pleasure since holding hers. Even so, their love endures across the distance, though starving from lack of physical contact. The blue stone in his dress ring- a symbol of their love- shines more brightly.
I found 'Exile' a much more straightforward poem than 'Legend'.
That does not mean that it is necessarily better.
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