What do you think?


Poesia ininterrotta
"Poesia ininterrotta - scriveva Franco Fortini nella sua introduzione a questa versione - appare un culmine della poesia di Eluard (1895-1952). Pubblicata per la prima volta nel 1946, gli anni che ce ne separano non hanno toccato la vitalità di questo inno alla luce amorosa, dove - con una agilità e velocità di movimenti che strappano al lettore il proprio ritmo e lo investono di un altro - Eluard ripete la vicenda che porta dall'orizzonte di uno alla coppia e da questa all'orizzonte di tutti".
105 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1946
About the author
Paul Éluard
311 books339 followersPaul Éluard was the pen name of Eugène Émile Paul Grindel. French poet, a founder of Surrealism with Louis Aragon and André Breton among others, one of the important lyrical poets of the 20th century. Éluard rejected later Surrealism and joined the French Communist Party. Many of his works reflect the major events of the century, such as the World Wars, the Resistance against the Nazis, and the political and social ideals of the 20th-century.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 17 of 17 reviews
May 6, 2021
Savoir régner savoir durer savoir revivre
Il rejeta ses draps il éclaira la chambre
Il ouvrit les miroirs légers de sa jeunesse
Et les longues allées qui l’avaient reconduit
Être un enfant être une plume à sa naissance
Être la source invariable et transparente
Toujours être au cœur blanc une goutte de sang
Une goutte de feu toujours renouvelée
Mordre un rire innocent mordre à même la vie
Rien n’a changé candeur rien n’a changé désir
L’hiver j’ai mon soleil il fait fleurir ma neige
Et l’été qui sent bon a toutes les faiblesses
L’on m’aimera car j’aime par dessus tout ordre
Et je suis prêt à tout pour l’avenir de tous
Et je ne connais rien de rien à l’avenir
Mais j’aime pour aimer et je mourrai d’amour
Il se mit à genoux pour un premier baiser
La nuit était pareille à la nuit d’autrefois
Et ce fut le départ et la fin du passé
La conscience amère qu’il avait vécu
Alors il réveilla les ombres endormies
La cendre grise et froide d’un murmure tu
La cendre de l’aveugle et la stérilité
Le jour sans espérance et la nuit sans sommeil
August 22, 2021
'Non passato non domani
Oggi sogno di notte
Al gran sole ogni cosa si libera
Oggi io sono per sempre'.
Tra i MUST in assoluto da dover leggere.
Oggi sogno di notte
Al gran sole ogni cosa si libera
Oggi io sono per sempre'.
Tra i MUST in assoluto da dover leggere.
May 20, 2023
(3.5)
Sous la menace d’impuissance
Entre deux temps et deux espaces
Entre l’ennui et la manie de vivre
Sous la menace d’impuissance
Entre deux temps et deux espaces
Entre l’ennui et la manie de vivre
March 12, 2025
mourir pour aimer parce que quoi qu’il arrive nous rêvons, quoi qu’il arrive pour vivrons.
May 9, 2024
Un chouette recueil, beaucoup de vers m’ont plu même si certains me sont restés obscurs.
Poèmes sur soi, poèmes d’amour, poèmes sur l’homme, ce sont les raisons pour lesquelles j’apprécie Eluard, donc comment ne pas apprécier ce recueil ?
Poèmes sur soi, poèmes d’amour, poèmes sur l’homme, ce sont les raisons pour lesquelles j’apprécie Eluard, donc comment ne pas apprécier ce recueil ?
January 11, 2024
Sometimes life is stranger than fiction. Or in this case, surrealist poetry.
Eugène Émile Paul Grindel was one of the founders of surrealism. At 16 he caught tuberculosis and ended up in a sanatorium in Davos. There he met a young woman, Gala. He married her and two days later he went to fight for the French in the First World War. During the war, he started to write poetry.
In 1919 he met Andre Breton, Louis Aragon, and Philippe Soupault, members of the Dadaists. He changed his name to Paul Éluard. Then in 1921 Gala and Paul met a German, Max Ernst who became good friends (really good friends with Gala). Then the tuberculosis returned. Paul and Gala returned to a sanitarium. Unfortunately for Paul, she met an artist, Salvador Dali (yes this is famous Gala, Dali’s model and wife).
During the twenties and thirties, Éluard became involved in the surrealist movement. He became good friends with another artist, Pablo Picasso. After the bombing of Guernica in Spain by the Nazi’s, Paul wrote a monumental poem, La Victorie de Guernica, while Picasso painted an even more monumental painting. In 1934 he married the artist and model, Maria Benz, known as Nusch. They were introduced by the photographer Man Ray.
In 1938, Éluard managed to get Ernst out of jail and to be reunited with his then lover British artist Leonora Carrington* living in the south of France. These artists stick together, don’t they?
*see the fabulous book by Elena Poniatowska
During the Second World War, Paul joins the Communist Party as well as the French Resistance, where at one point, an aircraft drops his poem Liberté to inspire the occupied citizens. After the war, Nusch dies and Paul continues with the communist party, convinces Picasso to join and later meets Pablo Neruda. It’s a small world. After remarrying in 1950, he dies of a heart attack in 1952.
That is quite the life he led. This book traces his work from 1914 right up to 1948. The early works certainly bear the surrealist mantra of blending unusual things together:
Toi la seule et j’entends les herbes de ton rire
You alone and I hear the grass of your laughter
(Premierement, 1926-29)
These poems deal with eroticism, women, love, time, place, and three to Picasso (not counting Guernica). There is a tender beauty and real playful to these poems, making them evocative and easy to read.
The war poems, and this makes up a big chunk of the book, are as can be expected. Harsh, brutal and honest. He doesn’t mince words and they are very strong but often heavy handed. Not my favourites and yet they stand out.
However the masterpiece is the title of the book, Poesie Ininterrompue. Written in 1946, it is the central poem recalling The Wasteland. It covers some 700 lines and recalls the heroics of the war, starting with a guttural, sonorous machine gun of words,
Nue effacée ensommeillé
Choisie sublime solitaire
Profonde oblique matinale
Fraîche nacrée ébouriffée
Ravivée premier régnante
Coquette vive passionnée
Orangée rose bleuissante
Naked obliterated slumbering
Selected sublime solitary
Profound sloping early
Fresh alive flurried
Brightened primal presiding
Flirtatious alive impassioned
Orange rose bluing*
*Translations by Lloyd Alexander, who knew Éluard from 1946 until his death.
Then the poem slows down:
Sommes-nous deux ou suis-je solitaire
Are we two or am I all alone
A series of quatrains, reflective, I you we returned from death. The war is over and what do we make of it? Life is changing:
Savoir vieillir savoir passé le temps
To know how to grow old to know how to pass the time
Remember that kiss, let the world unfold just as the seasons change. Remember the dead are dead. Reflect:
Le regret d’être au monde
The regret of being in the world
Then change the verse, double line stanzas, and direction. Your world becomes more solid, more straightforward, we move forward, we move up:
Le juge serait la foudre
Il n’y a pas de dieu
Si nous montions d’un degré
The judge would be god
There is no god
If we go up one degree
We climb, we climb higher, each stanza we have our faith, believe in oneself:
Nous deux nous ne vivons que pour être fidèles
A la vie
And we two we live only to be faithful
To life.
An ode to living, after so much death. Stellar in my opinion. Definitely worth reading.
A special thanks to Paula for pointing me to Éluard.
Eugène Émile Paul Grindel was one of the founders of surrealism. At 16 he caught tuberculosis and ended up in a sanatorium in Davos. There he met a young woman, Gala. He married her and two days later he went to fight for the French in the First World War. During the war, he started to write poetry.
In 1919 he met Andre Breton, Louis Aragon, and Philippe Soupault, members of the Dadaists. He changed his name to Paul Éluard. Then in 1921 Gala and Paul met a German, Max Ernst who became good friends (really good friends with Gala). Then the tuberculosis returned. Paul and Gala returned to a sanitarium. Unfortunately for Paul, she met an artist, Salvador Dali (yes this is famous Gala, Dali’s model and wife).
During the twenties and thirties, Éluard became involved in the surrealist movement. He became good friends with another artist, Pablo Picasso. After the bombing of Guernica in Spain by the Nazi’s, Paul wrote a monumental poem, La Victorie de Guernica, while Picasso painted an even more monumental painting. In 1934 he married the artist and model, Maria Benz, known as Nusch. They were introduced by the photographer Man Ray.
In 1938, Éluard managed to get Ernst out of jail and to be reunited with his then lover British artist Leonora Carrington* living in the south of France. These artists stick together, don’t they?
*see the fabulous book by Elena Poniatowska
During the Second World War, Paul joins the Communist Party as well as the French Resistance, where at one point, an aircraft drops his poem Liberté to inspire the occupied citizens. After the war, Nusch dies and Paul continues with the communist party, convinces Picasso to join and later meets Pablo Neruda. It’s a small world. After remarrying in 1950, he dies of a heart attack in 1952.
That is quite the life he led. This book traces his work from 1914 right up to 1948. The early works certainly bear the surrealist mantra of blending unusual things together:
Toi la seule et j’entends les herbes de ton rire
You alone and I hear the grass of your laughter
(Premierement, 1926-29)
These poems deal with eroticism, women, love, time, place, and three to Picasso (not counting Guernica). There is a tender beauty and real playful to these poems, making them evocative and easy to read.
The war poems, and this makes up a big chunk of the book, are as can be expected. Harsh, brutal and honest. He doesn’t mince words and they are very strong but often heavy handed. Not my favourites and yet they stand out.
However the masterpiece is the title of the book, Poesie Ininterrompue. Written in 1946, it is the central poem recalling The Wasteland. It covers some 700 lines and recalls the heroics of the war, starting with a guttural, sonorous machine gun of words,
Nue effacée ensommeillé
Choisie sublime solitaire
Profonde oblique matinale
Fraîche nacrée ébouriffée
Ravivée premier régnante
Coquette vive passionnée
Orangée rose bleuissante
Naked obliterated slumbering
Selected sublime solitary
Profound sloping early
Fresh alive flurried
Brightened primal presiding
Flirtatious alive impassioned
Orange rose bluing*
*Translations by Lloyd Alexander, who knew Éluard from 1946 until his death.
Then the poem slows down:
Sommes-nous deux ou suis-je solitaire
Are we two or am I all alone
A series of quatrains, reflective, I you we returned from death. The war is over and what do we make of it? Life is changing:
Savoir vieillir savoir passé le temps
To know how to grow old to know how to pass the time
Remember that kiss, let the world unfold just as the seasons change. Remember the dead are dead. Reflect:
Le regret d’être au monde
The regret of being in the world
Then change the verse, double line stanzas, and direction. Your world becomes more solid, more straightforward, we move forward, we move up:
Le juge serait la foudre
Il n’y a pas de dieu
Si nous montions d’un degré
The judge would be god
There is no god
If we go up one degree
We climb, we climb higher, each stanza we have our faith, believe in oneself:
Nous deux nous ne vivons que pour être fidèles
A la vie
And we two we live only to be faithful
To life.
An ode to living, after so much death. Stellar in my opinion. Definitely worth reading.
A special thanks to Paula for pointing me to Éluard.
May 22, 2025
Je m'habitue à la plume originale et parfois loufoque d'Eluard, ce qui me fait apprécier encore plus ses écrits. Certaines phrases, métaphores sont si puissantes ou bien inattendue que ça en devient du génie. Vraiment, masterclass ce poète. Les poèmes où il parle de son passé, de son enfance, ils sont juste magnifiques. De même, pour la thématique de la vieillesse, du temps qui passe. C'est un plaisir visuel et coloré à lire.
"La joie de vivre est un fruit mûr/ Que le soleil glace de sucre."
"Tu tends ton front comme une route/Où rien ne me fait trébucher/Le soleil y fond goutte à goutte/Pas à pas j'y reprend des forces/De nouvelles raisons d'aimer/Et le monde sous son écorce/M'offre sa sève conjuguée/Au long ruisseau de nos baisers"
"La joie de vivre est un fruit mûr/ Que le soleil glace de sucre."
"Tu tends ton front comme une route/Où rien ne me fait trébucher/Le soleil y fond goutte à goutte/Pas à pas j'y reprend des forces/De nouvelles raisons d'aimer/Et le monde sous son écorce/M'offre sa sève conjuguée/Au long ruisseau de nos baisers"
December 28, 2022
3.5 / 5
« De l'océan à la source
De la montagne à la plaine
Court le fantôme de la vie
L'ombre sordide de la mort »
« Nous deux nous ne vivons que pour être fidèles à la vie. »
« Je vois la ville de ton rêve
Que tu seras seule à peupler
Du tourbillon de ta beauté »
« Je t'aime je t'adore toi
Par-dessus la ligne des toits
Aux confins des vallées fertiles
Au seuil des rires et des îles
Où nul ne se noie ni ne brûle
Dans la foule future où nul
Ne peut éteindre son plaisir
La nuit protège le désir. »
« De l'océan à la source
De la montagne à la plaine
Court le fantôme de la vie
L'ombre sordide de la mort »
« Nous deux nous ne vivons que pour être fidèles à la vie. »
« Je vois la ville de ton rêve
Que tu seras seule à peupler
Du tourbillon de ta beauté »
« Je t'aime je t'adore toi
Par-dessus la ligne des toits
Aux confins des vallées fertiles
Au seuil des rires et des îles
Où nul ne se noie ni ne brûle
Dans la foule future où nul
Ne peut éteindre son plaisir
La nuit protège le désir. »
September 12, 2021
Et l'hiver la neige est un lit bien fait
Et l'amour (...)
Qui dessine dans le sable
Être un enfant être une plume à sa naissance.
To be a child, to be a feather at birth.
Toujours être au cœur blanc une goutte de sang
To always be white-hearted a drop of blood
L'hiver j'ai mon soleil il fait fleurir ma neige
In winter, I have my sun, it makes my snow bloom
Je fortifierai mon délire
Les autres sont imaginaires
Entr'ouverte à la vie
Toujours
Et l'amour (...)
Qui dessine dans le sable
Être un enfant être une plume à sa naissance.
To be a child, to be a feather at birth.
Toujours être au cœur blanc une goutte de sang
To always be white-hearted a drop of blood
L'hiver j'ai mon soleil il fait fleurir ma neige
In winter, I have my sun, it makes my snow bloom
Je fortifierai mon délire
Les autres sont imaginaires
Entr'ouverte à la vie
Toujours
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
November 2, 2022
Aujourd'hui je suis toujours!!!!!!!!!
March 7, 2023
3,5/5 la societe s il arretait de faire de la poesie engagee par ci par la on en peut plus
September 21, 2023
Je t’aime comme on vient au monde
March 24, 2024
Je ne pensais pas autant aimer ce recueil, et surtout qu’il me fasse autant pleurer… l’émotion de ces vers sont d’une intensité telle que je ne saurai la décrire.
March 16, 2025
Volevo Poésie ininterrompue per poter studiare, così mia zia mi ha regalato questo libro, che contiene però altre 10 raccolte stupende. Un gioiellino.
May 20, 2025
Dawn darkens over the ruins
and melt among soft shadows
[…] among repugnant secrets.
The poems are okay. The translation is however impeccable. ♥
and melt among soft shadows
[…] among repugnant secrets.
The poems are okay. The translation is however impeccable. ♥
September 4, 2026
I wish i could memorize it, it was so beautiful. I will be re-reading.
May 9, 2013
De magnifiques poèmes qui mêlent clairement les contraires et les synonymes : tout pour recréer un grand paradoxe de vie et de mort dans lequel triomphe l'amour et l'espoir. On retrouve aussi en arrière plan l'expérience personnelle d'Eluard dans la résistance si on prend bien garde au choix des mots.
Displaying 1 - 17 of 17 reviews


















