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“I believe in the magic and authority of words.”
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“Lucidity is the wound closest to the sun.”
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“Eternity is not much longer than life.”
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“Impose ta chance, serre ton bonheur et va vers ton risque. À te regarder, ils s'habitueront.”
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“A few beings are neither in society nor in a state of dreaming. They belong to an isolated fate, to an unknown hope. Their open acts seem anterior to time’s first inculpation and to the skies’ unconcern. It occurs to no one to employ them. The future melts before their gaze. They are the noblest and the most disquieting.”
― Selected Poems
― Selected Poems
“Children and geniuses know that there is no bridge, only the water that lets itself be crossed.”
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“A poet must leave traces of his passage, not proof.”
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“Avec celui que nous aimons, nous avons cessé de parler, et ce n'est pas le silence.
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Gdy z osobą kochaną przestajemy mówić, nie zapada cisza.”
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Gdy z osobą kochaną przestajemy mówić, nie zapada cisza.”
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“With my teeth
I have seized life
Upon the knife of my youth.
With my lips today,
With my lips alone...”
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I have seized life
Upon the knife of my youth.
With my lips today,
With my lips alone...”
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“Desire, desire which knows, we draw no advantage from our shadows except from some veritable sovereignties accompanied by invisible flames, invisible chains, which, coming to light, step after step, cause us to shine.”
― Selected Poems
― Selected Poems
“You only fight well for causes you yourself have shaped, with which you identify—and burn.”
― Leaves of Hypnos
― Leaves of Hypnos
“Companions in pathos,who barely murmur,go with your lamp spent and return the jewels. A new mystery sings in your bones. Cultivate your legitimate strangeness.”
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“A poet should leave traces of his passage, not proof.”
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“Midnight is not in everyman's reach.”
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“LONG LIVE...
This country is but a wish of the spirit, a counter-sepulcher.
In my country, tender proofs of spring and badly dressed birds are preferred to far-off goals.
Truth waits for dawn beside a candle. Window glass is neglected. To the watchful, what does it matter?
In my country, we don't question a man deeply moved.
There is no malignant shadow on the capsized boat.
A cool hello is unknown in my country.
We borrow only what can be returned increased.
There are leaves, many leaves, on the trees in my country. The branches are free to bear no fruits.
We don't believe in the good faith of the victor.
In my country, we say thank you.”
― The Dawn Breakers: Les Matinaux
This country is but a wish of the spirit, a counter-sepulcher.
In my country, tender proofs of spring and badly dressed birds are preferred to far-off goals.
Truth waits for dawn beside a candle. Window glass is neglected. To the watchful, what does it matter?
In my country, we don't question a man deeply moved.
There is no malignant shadow on the capsized boat.
A cool hello is unknown in my country.
We borrow only what can be returned increased.
There are leaves, many leaves, on the trees in my country. The branches are free to bear no fruits.
We don't believe in the good faith of the victor.
In my country, we say thank you.”
― The Dawn Breakers: Les Matinaux
“Il faut être l'homme de la pluie et l'enfant du beau temps.”
― Le Marteau sans maître
― Le Marteau sans maître
“How can we live without the unknown before us?”
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“Impose your luck, embrace your happiness and go toward your risks: by looking at you, they'll get used to it.”
― The Dawn Breakers: Les Matinaux
― The Dawn Breakers: Les Matinaux
“Cheat at this game.”
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“No man, unless he be dead in living, can feel at anchor in this life.”
― The Brittle Age and Returning Upland
― The Brittle Age and Returning Upland
“How did writing come to me? Like bird’s down on my windowpane, in winter. Just then there rose in the heart a struggle of firebrands, which has, still now, not ended.”
― Selected Poems
― Selected Poems
“Dans nos ténèbres, il n'y a pas une place pour la Beauté. Toute la place est pour la Beauté.”
― Hypnos
― Hypnos
“There is only the one like me, the companion man or woman, who can wake me from my torpor, set off the poetry, hurl me against the limits of the old desert for me to triumph over it. No other. Neither sky nor privileged earth, now things which set you to trembling.
Torch, I only waltz with that one.”
― Selected Poems
Torch, I only waltz with that one.”
― Selected Poems
“Le réel quelquefois désaltère l'espérance. C'est pourquoi, contre toute attente, l'espérance survit.”
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“The poet advises: 'Read me. Read me again.'
He does not always come away unscathed from
his page, but like the poor, he knows how to
make use of an olive's eternity.”
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He does not always come away unscathed from
his page, but like the poor, he knows how to
make use of an olive's eternity.”
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“Obey your pigs who exist; I obey my gods who do not.”
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“In my land we don't question someone who has been touched deeply.
There is no malign shadow over capsized boats.”
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There is no malign shadow over capsized boats.”
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“I believe in the magic and in the authority of words”
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“In the darkness of our lives, there is not one place for Beauty. The whole place is for Beauty.”
― Hypnos
― Hypnos
“In the streets of the town goes my love. Small matter where
she moves in divided time. She is no longer my love, anyone may speak with her. She remembers no longer: who exactly loved her?
She seeks her equal in glances, pledging. The space she traverses
is my faithfulness. She traces a hope and lightly dismisses it.
She is dominant without taking part.
I live in her depth, a joyous shipwreck. Without her knowing,
my solitude is her treasure. In the great meridian where her soaring
is inscribed, my freedom delves deep in her.
In the streets of the town goes my love. Small matter where
she moves in divided time. She is no longer my love, anyone may
speak with her. She remembers no longer: who exactly loved her,
and lights her from afar, lest she should fall?
from ”Fidelity”
― Fureur et Mystère
she moves in divided time. She is no longer my love, anyone may speak with her. She remembers no longer: who exactly loved her?
She seeks her equal in glances, pledging. The space she traverses
is my faithfulness. She traces a hope and lightly dismisses it.
She is dominant without taking part.
I live in her depth, a joyous shipwreck. Without her knowing,
my solitude is her treasure. In the great meridian where her soaring
is inscribed, my freedom delves deep in her.
In the streets of the town goes my love. Small matter where
she moves in divided time. She is no longer my love, anyone may
speak with her. She remembers no longer: who exactly loved her,
and lights her from afar, lest she should fall?
from ”Fidelity”
― Fureur et Mystère




