Renee Vivien

Selected Works

Roses Rising
Your Strange Hair
Prolong the Night
The Touch
Roses Rising

My brunette with the golden eyes, your ivory body, your amber
Has left bright reflections in the room
Above the garden.

The clear midnight sky, under my closed lids,
Still shines....I am drunk from so many roses
Redder than wine.

Leaving their garden, the roses have followed me....
I drink their brief breath, I breathe their life.
All of them are here.

It's a miracle....The stars have risen,
Hastily, across the wide windows
Where the melted gold pours.

Now, among the roses and the stars,
You, here in my room, loosening your robe,
And your nakedness glistens

Your unspeakable gaze rests on my eyes....
Without stars and without flowers, I dream the impossible
In the cold night.


Your laughter is light, your caress deep,
Your cold kisses love the harm they do;
Your eyes-blue lotus waves
And the water lilies are less pure than your face..

You flee, a fluid parting,
Your hair falls in gentle tangles;
Your voice-a treacherous tide;
Your arms-supple reeds.

Long river reeds, their embrace
Enlaces, chokes, strangles savagely,
Deep in the waves, an agony
Extinguished in a night drift.

Your Strange Hair

Your strange hair, cold light,
Has pale glows and blond dullness;
Your gaze has the blue of ether and waves;
Your gown has the chill of the breeze and the woods.

I burn the whiteness of your fingers with kisses.
The night air spreads the dust from many worlds.
Still I don't know anymore, in the heart of those deep nights,
How to see you with the passion of yesterday.

The moon grazed you with a slanted glow ...
It was terrible, like prophetic lightning
Revealing the hideous below your beauty.

I saw-as one sees a flower fade-
On your mouth, like summer auroras,
The withered smile of an old whore.

Prolong the Night

Prolong the night, Goddess who sets us aflame!
Hold back from us the golden-sandalled dawn!
Already on the sea the first faint gleam
Of day is coming on.

Sleeping under your veils, protect us yet,
Having forgotten the cruelty day may give!
The wine of darkness, wine of the stars let
Overwhelm us with love!

Since no one knows what dawn will come,
Bearing the dismal future with its sorrows
In its hands, we tremble at full day, our dream
Fears all tomorrows.

Oh! keeping our hands on our still-closed eyes,
Let us vainly recall the joys that take flight!
Goddess who delights in the ruin of the rose,
Prolong the night!

The Touch

The trees have kept some lingering sun in their branches,
Veiled like a woman, evoking another time,
The twilight passes, weeping. My fingers climb,
Trembling, provocative, the line of your haunches.

My ingenious fingers wait when they have found
The petal flesh beneath the robe they part.
How curious, complex, the touch, this subtle art--
As the dream of fragrance, the miracle of sound.

I follow slowly the graceful contours of your hips,
The curves of your shoulders, your neck, your upappeased breasts.
In your white voluptuousness my desire rests,
Swooning, refusing itself the kisses of your lips.


Dans mon âme a fleuri le miracle des roses.
Pour le mettre à l’abri, tenons les portes closes.
Je défends mon bonheur, comme on fait des trésors,
Contre les regards durs et les bruits du dehors.

____________(Intérieur, À l’heure… )

Pendant longtemps, je fus clouée au pilori,
Et des femmes, voyant que je souffrais, ont ri.

La place était publique et tous étaient venus,
Et les femmes jetaient des rires ingénus.

Ils se lançaient des fruits avec des chansons folles,
Et le vent m’apportait le bruit de leurs paroles.

Les insultes cinglaient, comme des fouets d’ortie.
Lorsqu’ils m’ont détachée enfin, je suis partie.

____________(Le Pilori, A l'heure... )

Je possède, en mes doigts subtils, le sens du monde,
Car le toucher pénètre ainsi que fait la voix,
L'harmonie et le songe et la douleur profonde
Frémissent longuement sur le bout de mes doigts.

____________(Chair des choses, Sillages)

With the loved Woman

When you wines, with reflected steps, in the fog,
The sky mixed with golds the crystal and bronze.
Your body was guessed, dubious undulation,
More flexible than the wave and more expenses that scum.
The evening of summer seemed an Eastern dream
Of pink and sandal.

I trembled. Long religious and pale lilies
Died in your hands, like candles cold.
Their expiring perfumes escaped from your fingers
In the pâmé breath of the supreme anguishes.
Of your lights clothing exhaled themselves in turn
Anguish and love.

I felt to shiver on my dumb lips
The softness and the fear of tone first kiss.
Under your steps, I intended the quadrants to break
By shouting towards the sky the proud trouble of the poets
Among floods of sounds languissamment decreased,
Blonde, you appeared to me.

And the assoiffé spirit of eternal, impossible,
Of infinite, I desired largely modulating
An anthem of magic and amazement.
But the stanza assembled bégayante and painful,
Naive reflection, puerile echo, run up against flight,
Towards your Divinity.

__________ (First poem of Studies and preludes, 1901)


How to forget the heavy fold
Of your beautiful serene hips,
Ivory of the flesh where runs
A blue quivering of veins?

You felt only one moment,
Drunk of its vain anguishes,
My heart went passionately
Towards your dear remote lips?

And how to never find
Identical the extase savage,
To forget you, live again and dream
As I dreamed on your mouth?

__________ (Studies and preludes, 1901)


The evening pours the half-tones
And supports the hymens
Speedwells, hyacinths,
Irises and cyclamens.

Charming my ravaged gravities
Of your light and cold kisses,
You mingle with my daydreams
The white touch of your fingers.

__________ (Studies and preludes, 1901)


Your laughter is clear, your caress is deep,
Your cold kisses like the evil which they make;
Your eyes are blue like a lotus on the wave,
And the water lilies are less pure than your face.

Your form flees, your step is fluid,
And your hair is light reeds;
Your voice streams as well as a perfidious flood;
Your flexible arms are similar with the reeds,

With the long reeds of the rivers, of which the pressure
Intertwine, chokes, strangles learnedly,
At the bottom of the floods, an anguish extinct
In a night fainding.

__________ (Studies and preludes, 1901)


Your blue eyes, through their mi-closes eyelids,
Conceal the gleam of vague treasons.
The violent and cheating breath of these pinks
Me enivre as a wine where the poisons sleep…

Around the hour when madly the fireflies dance,
The hour when in our eyes the desire of the moment shines,
You repeat me in vain the flattering words…
I hate you and I love you abominably.

__________ (Studies and preludes, 1901)


The delicate art of the defect occupies your leisures,
And you can awake the heat of the desires
To which your perfidious and flexible body is concealed.
The odor of the bed is interfered with the perfumes your dress.
Your fair charm resembles the insipidity of honey.
You like only the forgery and the artificial one,
Music of the words and the murmurs mièvres.
Your kiss is diverted and slipped on the lips.
Your eyes are winters pâlement spangled.
Mournings follow your steps in dull processions.
Your gesture is a reflection, your word is a shade.
Your body was softened under kisses without number,
And your heart is faded and your body is worn.
Languishing and lascif, your rubbing crafty one
Be unaware of the honest beauty of the pressure.
You lie as one likes, and, under your pretended softness,
One feels the creeping of the attentive reptile.
At the bottom of the shade, it a sea without reef,
The tombs are encor less impure than your layer…
O Woman! I know it, but I am thirsty for your mouth!

__________ (Studies and preludes, 1901)

Your form is a flash which leaves the empty arms,
Your smile is the moment that one cannot seize…
You flee, when the call of my avid lips
Beseech you, O my Desire!

Colder than the Hope, your caress is cruel
Passes like a perfume and dies like a reflection.
Ah! eternal hunger and eternal thirst
And the eternal regret!

You pass very close to without étreindre, as well as the Dream
Towards qu always tend the unappeased wishes…
Nothing is worth this torment nor this extase bitter
Of your rare kisses!

__________ (Studies and preludes, 1901)


In the azure of April, the gray of the autumn,
The trees have an anxious and moving charm.
The poplar ploie and twists under the wind,
Similar with the bodies of woman where the desire shivers.

Its thanks to languors of flesh which is given up,
Its foliage murmurs and quivers while dreaming,
And inclines itself, in love with the pinks with Raising.
Door with the face a pale crown trembles.

Vêtu of money reflection and moonlight,
Fray the birch of which changing ivory
Project palenesses in the dubious shades.

The limes have the odor of the rough brown hair,
And of the acacias to the remote greenery
Fall snow divinement from the perfumes.

__________ (Studies and preludes, 1901)


The trees kept sun in their branches.
Veiled like a woman, evoking formerly,
The twilight passes while crying… And my fingers
Follow while quivering the line of your hips.

My clever fingers are delayed with the shivers
Of your flesh under the dress with softnesses of petal…
The art of the touch, complex and curious, equal
Dreams of the perfumes, the miracle of the sounds.

I am with slowness the contour of your hips,
Your unappeased shoulders, your collar, your centres.
My delicate desire refuses with the kisses;
It effleure and pâme in white pleasures.

__________ (Evocations, 1903)

Psappha lives again

… We know effleurer of a velvet kiss,
And we know étreindre with pale ardours;
Our caresses are our mélodieux poems
Our love is larger than all the loves.

Our lunar kisses have pale softnesses,
Our fingers did not froissent the sleeping bag of a cheek,
And we can, when the belt unties ourselves,
To be all at the same time lovers and sisters.

__________ (Per hour of the united hands, 1906)

Consent in silence

In the secret storm, the extreme disorder
I do not dare to acknowledge myself with myself which I like!
That is too cruel, too terrible for me… But I like!

Why I like it thus? The glare of its hair…
Its mouth… Its glance! … What she wants, I want.
I live only of the clearness of his hair…

And I live only ray of this smile
Who tenderizes me, and that I call and I wish…
O miracle of this miraculous smile! …

Its dress has soft folds which sing… And its eyes
Greenish grey have a miraculous glance almost……
I adore his hair and his face and his eyes…

It will know, never, how much I like it
However! Because never my extreme jealousy
Will let to him see, never, how much I like it!

__________ (Per hour of the united hands, 1906)

Flesh of the things

I have, in my subtle fingers, the direction of the world,
Because the touch penetrates like makes the voice,
The harmony and the dream and the major pain
Quiver lengthily on the end of my fingers.

I include/understand better, by passing very close to them, the beautiful things,
I share their intense life in concerning,
At this point in time I know what they have in them
Of noble, the very soft one and of similar with the song.

Because my fingers knew the flesh of the potteries
The flesh smoothes marble with female contours
That the hand which can model them has ravaged,
And that of the pearl and that of velvet.

They knew the intimate life of the furs,
Hot and superb fleece where I plunge the hands!
They knew the burning secrecy of chevelures
Where thousands of jasmines were thinned out the leaves of.

And, similar to these which come from the voyages.
My fingers traversed infinite horizons,
They lit, better than my eyes, of the faces
And prophesied me obscure treasons.

They knew the subtle skin of the woman,
And its cruel shivers and its underhand perfumes…
Flesh of the things! I believed étreindre sometimes a heart
With the prolonged rubbing of my fingers…

__________ (Wakes, 1908)

The offering

To prove to him that I like it more than myself,
I will give my eyes to the woman whom I love.

I will say to him of a humble, tender and merry tone:
“My very expensive, here the offering of my eyes.”

I will give you my eyes which transfer things so much.
So many setting and so much seas and so much pinks.

These eyes, which were miens, were posed formerly
On the terrible furnace bridge of the Eleusis antique,

On Seville with the pious and profane beauties,
On slow Arabia with its caravans.

I saw Grenade éprise in vain his sizes
Died, among the songs and the heavy odors.

Venice which fades, Dogaresse dying,
And Florence who was the mistress of Dante.

I saw Hellade where an echo of syrinx cries,
And Egypt squatted opposite the large Sphinx,

I saw, close to the deaf floods that the night clears up,
These heavy orchards which are the pride of Mytilène.

I saw gold islands to the scented temples,
And this Yeddo, full with frail voices of mousmés.

Randomly climates, currents and zones,
I saw China even with his yellow faces…

I saw the gold islands where the air is done softer,
And ponds crowned close to the Hindu temples,

These temples where useless wisdom survives…
I give you all that I saw, my mistress!

I return, bringing my gray or merry ciels to you.
You that I like, here the offering of my eyes.

__________ (Per hour…, 1906)

The Night is with us

It is the hour of the alarm clock… Raise your eyelids…
With far the firefly sharpens its lights,
And the pale asphodel has breaths of love.
The night comes: hasten, my strange partner,
Because the moon made green the blue of the mountain,
Because the night is with us as with others the day.

I do not hear, in the middle of the silent forests,
That noise of your dress and the night wings,
And the flower of aconite, with the dull and cold white,
Exhale its intimate perfumes and its poisons…
A tree, crossed breath of the abysses,
Tightens towards us its branches, hooked like fingers.

Night blue runs and épand… At this hour,
The joy is burning and distresses is better,
The memory is beautiful as a destroyed palate…
Will-o'-the-wisps will run along our vertebrae,
Because the heart ressuscite with deep of darkness,
And one becomes again oneself only the night.

__________ (Evocations, 1903)


… You will be never the feverish captive one
What connects, which the bed imprisons,
You will be never the lascive partner
Whose flesh is consumed and whose face fades.
Keep your white perfume which scorns ostentation.

You will not know the cowards abandonments,
The shared sobs which make the vaster heart,
The doubt and the burning weakness of forgiveness…
And, since thus I love you, very pure O!
We will gather this evening the mystics thistles.

__________ (Evocations, 1903)

The Rocket

Vertiginously, I went towards Stars…
My pride enjoyed the triumph of the gods,
And my flight tore, bridal and merry,
Darkness of summer, like light veils…

In a reducing kiss of hymen, I was the lover
Night with the hair interfered violets,
And the flowers of the tobacco opened their cassolettes to me
Of ivory, where warmed a dormant memory.

And I saw higher divine Pléiade…
I went up… I reached Silence Eternal…
When I broke, like a deer rainbow,
Throwing gleams of gold and onyx and jade…

I was the extinct flash and the destroyed dream…
Having known the heat and the effort of the fight,
Victory and the monstrous fear of the fall,
I was the fallen star which sinks in the night.

__________ (Evocations, 1903)

I love you to be weak…

I love you to be weak and câline in my arms
And to seek the sure refuge of my arms
As well as a tepid cradle where you will rest.

I love you to be russet-red and similar with the autumn,
Frail image of the Goddess of the autumn
That the setting sun illuminates and crowns.

I love you to be slow and to go without noise
And of speaking very low and hating the noise,
Like one makes in the presence of the night.

And I love you especially to be pale and dying,
And to groan with sobs of dying,
In the cruel pleasure which is baited and tormented.

I love you to be, O sister of the queens of formerly,
Exiled in the middle of splendours of formerly,
Whiter than a moon reflection on a lily…

I love you not to move you, when pale
And trembling I then to hide my pale face,
O you who will never know how much I love you!

__________ (Per hour…, 1906)


Mirage of the sea under the moon, O Love!
You which disappoint, you which appear to disappear
And to lie and die and reappear,
You which fear the glance right and wise day!

You that one nourishes of dream and melancholy,
Unexplainable as much as the breath of the wind
And always unequal, unjust too often,
I fear you with equal your sister the madness!

I fear you, I hate you and yet you attract me
Since also the fatal one is close to the divine one.
Here that it is given to me to know you finally,
And I would die for one of your least smiles!

_________ (extinguished Torches, 1907)

Poem of love

O you which learnedly throw a beautiful glance,
Blue like the minuits, through the windows,
I live you on the road where I wandered randomly
Pastoral perfumes and hour and laughter.

The sun bleached your hair of a long spoke,
Your pupils on me darted their double flame;
You appeared to me, O nymph! and I considered
Your face of virgin and your hips of women.

I live you on the road where I wandered randomly
Pastoral shades and hour and laughter,
O you which lengthily throw a beautiful glance,
Blue like the minuits, through the windows.

__________ (Kitharèdes, 1904)


Of your dress with long floating folds
All the dreams stream,
And you bring spring to me
In your fair and light hands.

I am afraid of this pearly shiver
Of your frail centres, I do not touch
That while trembling with your crowned body,
I am afraid of the charm of your mouth.

I feel to grow to the Gods
When, under my proud pressure,
The soft ravaged blue of your eyes
Disappears, extinct freshness.

But when, if white between my arms,
With my cry of love which pâme
You mouse and do not answer,
Your closed eyes freeze me the heart…

I am afraid - it is the spectral remorse
That the extase could not conceal -
To have perhaps hurt you
Of an involuntary caress.

__________ (Studies and preludes, 1901)

At my April

Spread on my face of insomnia
Your hair of dawn and joy,
O you, my infinite tenderness,
April, my spring, my love!

What moreover tending and more beautiful
To see, supreme miracle!
Pinks to be born from the tomb!
That was done, since I love you.

In my heart, where the anguish died,
The memory is unobtrusive…
Give me your lips! what imports
The pain which was the past!

The lapse of memory smiles me in your eyes
And I say to the life in tears
A great quiet homage
Because it has supreme charms.

Because I have, in my poor existence,
Among the days when I cried,
Something the soft one, of immense,
The luminous one and of crowned!

Therefore I blessed
Not only you, my very fair,
But also infinite times,
Space and skies and the world!

I included/understood which supreme paddle
Rises on great nothing,
And that it is hoped, and that one likes
And that one dies while smiling!

__________ (found Poem)

For One

In the gray future like a dubious paddle,
Somebody, I believe it, will remember us,
While seeing burning on the amber of the plain
The autumn with the russet-red eyes.

A being among the beings of the ground,
O my Pleasure! to remember us,
A woman, having with her face the mystery
Violent one and soft.

She will cherish the light spray which smokes
And olive-trees as beautiful as the sea,
The flower of snow and the flower of scum,
The evening and the winter.

Saddening good-byes banks and shepherds,
Under gravities of a darkened eye,
She will know the crowned love of the virgins
Atthis, my Concern.

__________ (Venus of the blind men, 1904)


I return to seek the illusion of the things
Of formerly, in order to groan in secrecy
And to bury our love under the pinks
White of the regret.

Because I remember divine waitings,
Feverish shade and evenings of formerly…
Among the sighs and the burning tears,
I loved you, Atthis!

I liked your woven hair of moon lights,
Your ondoyant body which is concealed and fled,
Your eyes that the glare of the dawn, importunes,
Blue like the night.

I liked to kiss it your bitter lips,
I liked your kiss with the marvellous poisons,
Formerly! And I liked your unjust angers
And your treasons…

Atthis, you faded today, and I pass
Such one exiled without desire of return,
You, less smiling, and me, the more tired heart,
More far from the love.

Here that exhales itself goes up, with the flame
And the rise of the songs and breath of the lilies,
The close friend sob of the heart of my heart:
I loved you, Atthis.

__________ (Evocations, 1903)

Towards you, beautiful, my thought is not changing

I do not change, O virgins of Lesbos!
When I continue the fugitive Beauty,
Such God driving out a virgin with the peplos
Very white on bank.

I did not betray the invariable love.
My identical heart and my similar heart
Can find, in the one day kiss,
That of the day before.

And I étreins Atthis on the centres of Dika.
I call while crying, over the threshold of his door,
The shade, that a long time my pain called upon,
De Timas the dead.

For Aphrodita I scorned the Eros,
And I have joy and of anguish only in it:
I do not change, O virgins of Lesbos,
I am eternal.

__________ (Sapho, 1903)

I had you

I had you, O girl of Kuprôs!
Pale, I been useful your cruel pleasure…
I taken, with the gleams of the torch of Hespérôs,
Your body of Immortal.

And my flesh knew the sun of your flesh…
I etreignis the flame and shade and dew,
Your moaning died like the sea
Lascive and broken.

Mortal, I drank in the cut of the Gods,
I drew aside the ondoyant azure of your veils…
My caress made fail your eyes
On your star bed…

Since, it is in vain that the night of Lesbos
Call me, and that the gold of the paktis is prolonged…
I had you, O girl of Kupôs,
In the heat of a dream.

__________ (Sapho, 1903)

You burn us

My lips are thirsty for tone bitter kiss,
And heat sinks it that in vain you dissimulate
Tear my heart and devastates my flesh:
Eros, you burn us…

__________ (Sapho, 1903)

Somebody, I believe, will remember in the future us

In the following days that the fate slips by and braids,
The future beings will not forget us…
We do not fear, Atthis, O my mistress!
Shade of the demise.

Because those which will be born after us in this world
Where the songs râlent will throw their sigh
Towards me, which loved you of a major anguish,
Towards you, my Desire.

The ondoyants days that clearness moderates,
The nights of perfumes will come to perpetuate
Our quiverings, our burning suffering
And our kiss.

__________ (Sapho, 1903)

I will be always virgin

I will remain virgin like snow
Serene, which sleeps over there of a white sleep,
Who sleeps pâlement, and whom the winter protects
Brutal sun.

And I will be unaware of the stain and the print
Like the water of the river and the breath of north.
I will flee the bloody horror of the pressure,
Kiss which bites.

I remained virgin like the moon
Who reflects himself in the mirror of the flood,
And that the desire of the importunate sea
Of its long sob.

__________ (Sapho, 1903)

The Mirror

I admire you, and I am only your faithful mirror
Because I damage myself in you to a little better love you;
I dream your beauty, I merge in it,
And I made farmhouse eyes the mirror of your eyes.

I adore you, and my heart is the deep mirror
Where your mood of April is reflected unceasingly.
Entire, it lights at your times of hope
And dies slowly in your least sadness.

O always softest, ö fair enters the blondes,
I T `adore, and my body is in love mirror
Where you will see your centres and your deep hips,
Your pale centres which make so luminous the evening!

Lean, you will see your mirror all with all
To fade or smile you with your same lips
Where encor your same words of loves will tremble;
You will see quivering of the same long fevers.

Contemplate your mirror of tender and pearly flesh
Because it was made very pure in order to receive
The immortal reflection of the crowned Beauty…
Incline yourself lengthily towards in love Miroir!

__________ (found Poem)

I ruined my heart

I ruined my heart, I devastated my heart
And I am the beggar of love today:
Memories, similar with infamous vermin,
Corrode me with the face relentless of the day.
I ruined my heart, I devastated my heart
And I loosely come to beseech destiny
A reflection of your eyes to the divine whim,
O forms fugitive, O scented paleness
So prodigally, so largely liked!

I sought your glance in the foreign eyes,
I sought your kiss on reducing lips;
The vine which reddens with the sun of the orchards
In its floods the laughter of Bacchantes poured me;
I sought your glance in the foreign eyes
Without releasing my heart of your rough caresses.
And, like the sighs of the plaintive mistresses
Who cry in the night a summer without return,
I intend to groan the echo of the words of love.

O forms fugitive, O scented paleness,
Dubious softness torn off with the destiny,
So prodigally, so largely liked,
I lost your smile with the divine whim;
O forms fugitive, O scented paleness,
You made me the beggar of love today
Spreading out with the face relentless of the day
The pain without beauty of an infamous misery…
I ruined my heart, I devastated my heart.

__________ (found Poem)

Words with the Friend

You include/understand me: I am a poor being,
Neither good, nor very bad, peaceful, a little underhand.
I hate the heavy perfumes and the shouts,
And the gray is more expensive to me than scarlet or ochre.

I like the dying day which dies out per degrees,
Fire, claustral intimacy of a room
Where lamps, veiling their amber transparencies,
Redden old bronze and turn blue the sandstone.

Eyes on the carpet smoother than sand,
I indolently evoke banks with the gold poid
Where the chart of beautiful formerly the fleet encor…
And however I am a large culprit.

See: I have the age where the virgin gives up her hand
With the man whom his weakness seeks and fears,
And I did not choose of fellow traveller,
Because you appeared with the turning of the way.

The Hyacinthe bled on the reds hills,
You dreamed and the Eros went to your side…
I am woman, I am not entitled to the beauty.
One had condemned me to the male uglinesses.

And I have the inexcusable audacity to want
The sororal love makes light whitenesses,
The furtive step which meurtrit not ferns
And the soft voice which comes to be combined at the evening.

Your hair, your pupils had been prohibited to me,
Because your hair is long and full with odors
And because your eyes have strange heats.
And disturb themselves as well as the rebellious waves.

One showed me finger in an irritated gesture,
Because my glance sought your tender glance…
While seeing us passes, no one did not want to include/understand
That I had chosen you with simplicity.

Consider the cheap law which I transgress
And my love judges, which does not know the evil,
Also ingenuous, also necessary and fatal
That the desire which joint the lover with the mistress.

One did not read how much my glance was clear
On the way where my destiny leads me,
And one said: “Which is this damnée woman
What corrodes the flame of the hell dully? “

Let us leave them to the preoccupation with a their impure morals,
And let us think that the dawn has honey fairnesses,
That the day without sourness and that the night without gall
Come, such of the friends whose kindness reassures…

We will see the star light on the mounts…
What imports us, with us, the judgement of the men?
And what have we to fear, since we are
Pure in front of the life and that we like? …

__________ (Per hour…, 1906)

The morning garden

Come, the hours of love of which furtive and rare…
The morning garden is full with odd birds.

Expensive, I you convoie with this royal feast.
I do not want to only enjoy this morning.

The paddle runs up against the sky like a closed door.
Come to drink the dew in the middle fair pink.

Wood dew as well as a fresh liquor.
My heart is a pink and I offer my heart to you…

The paddle has tons of mother-of-pearl and the reflections of pearl.
The joy is simple and nothing is as beautiful as a blackbird.

Let us enjoy this a little sad heat and cry
To feel clearness first on our faces.

Come, my very expensive… In the east the sky bale chatoie,
The grass is soft with the barefeet like a silk carpet…

Without us to worry hostile destiny,
Let us return graces to the lenient sky for this morning.

__________ (Per hour…, 1906)

We will go towards the poets

The shade seems to us enemy in ambush…
, I come will carry you like an ill child,
Like a plaintive and apprehensive and sick child.

Between my nervous arms I étreins your light body.
You will see that I can cure and protect,
And that my arms are strong for better protecting you.

Wood crowned do not have any more effective a dictames,
And the world was always cruel to the women.
We know it, the world is cruel for the women.

The blames of human weighed on our faces,
But we will go further. Over there, we will forget…
Under a more lenient sky, softer, we will forget…

Remembering that it is broader planets,
We will enter the kingdom of the poets,
This marvellous kingdom where the poets sing.

The light is driven there on a divine rate/rhythm.
There are not a concern and one is free finally.
One is astonished by living and being happy finally.

See, high for you, these palates of emerald
Where the perfume is mislaid, where the music grinds,
Where a memory cries which is delayed and which grinds.

My love, which rises at the level of the song,
Will rent your russet-red hair more beautiful than laying down it…
Ah! this hair, more beautiful than most beautiful setting!

The pains will be done exquisite and remote,
In the middle of the gardens and noise of the fountains,
O Moorishes gardens where the fountains sleep.

We will bless the soft fraternal poets
While wandering in the middle of the eternal gardens,
In the harmony and the eternal moonlight…

__________ (Per hour…, 1906)


Here, I began again to you and I reconquered you…
I waited here, to celebrate it, your return…
How you appear exquisite, in this sitted armchair!
I love you better than at the day first of our love.

You did not know to include/understand and I appeared less to tend,
It was the distance of me, of your lover!
I am tired to wait and I come to begin again to you,
And it is enivrement of the single moment.

Unreal and supreme with equal of a poem,
The splendour of re-examining exceeded the hope…
And you here yourself, O the woman whom I love!
And you return to sit down close to me in the evening…

__________ (Wakes, 1908)


My eternal love, you returned here.
Here against my flesh, your extreme and naked flesh.

And I love you, and I very forgave, very included/understood;
You finally returned to me what you had taken to me.

I forget in your soft arm that it was days hate,
That you gave up me and that you betrayed me.

What imports so formerly the whim of the hours
Could involve you towards the lower loves?

What imports a cheap being? Its name is unobtrusive! …
I do not remember any more this bad past.

I do not remember any more but your pale face
When you made the supreme gift, in a rail…

And here, like yesterday, your body between my arms.
Order, I will do all that you will want.

How not to banish very old quarrel
And not to forgive, by seeing you whether beautiful?

How not étreindre and not to abolish you
The concern, bitterness and length memory,

And not to like not the night which sees our bound flesh,
And dying of love and reconciled? …

__________ (Wakes, 1908)


Our heart is similar in our centre of woman,
Very expensive! Our body pareillement is pareillement made.
The same heavy destiny weighed on our hearts,
We like and we are the perfect anthem.

I translate your smile and the shade on your face.
My softness is equal to your great softness,
Sometimes even it seems to us to be same race…
I love in you my child, my friend and my sister.

As you I like solitary water, breeze,
Distances, silence and the beautiful purple one…
By the force of my love, I included/understood you:
I know exactly you like which thing.

Here, I am more than holds, I am yourself.
You do not have a torment which is not my concern…
And what could you thus like that me I do not like?
And what would you think that I do not think too?

Our love takes part in the infinite things,
Absolute as are death and the beauty…
Here, our hearts are joined and our hands are plain
Firmly in space and eternity.

__________ (Wakes, 1908)

Female sonnet

Your voice with the languor of the quadrants lesbians,
Anxiety of the songs and the saphic odes,
And you know the secrecy of overpowering musics,
O ù cries the sigh of old unions.

Aèdes enthusiasts and Musiciennes
Taught you the width of the erotic stanzas
And the gravity of the concise distiches.
Formerly you comtemplas pagan nudities.

You seem to listen to the echo of the harmonies
Died; blue of this blue of infinite clearnesses,
Your eyes have the reflection of the sky of Mytilène.

The flowers scented your strange hollow hands;
Of your body goes up, as well as a light breath,
The white pleasure of the virgins in love.

__________ (Ashes and Dust, 1902)


These whose coats have folds of shrouds
Taste divine pleasure to be only.

Their wisdom has pity of the intoxication of the couples,
Pressure of the hands, steps at the flexible rates/rhythms.

Those whose face hides in the shade of the shrouds
Can divine pleasure be only.

They contemplate the dawn and the aspect of the life
Without horror, and more one which feels sorry for them the desire.

Those which seek the peace of the evening and the shrouds
Know terrible intoxication to be only.

They are the beloveds of the evening and the mystery.
They listen to germinate the pinks under the ground

And perceive the echo of the colors, the reflection
Sounds… Their atmosphere is of a purple gray.

They taste the savour of the wind and darkness,
And their eyes are more beautiful than funeral torches.

__________ (Evocations, 1903)

One-eyed love

I love you of my single eye, I you lorgne
As well as Chinese opium:
I love you of my one-eyed love,
Girl as white as a arum.
I want your eyelids of bistre,
And your voice slower than a sistre;
I love you of my sinister eye
Where shone the anger of rum.

I am to you glance, lustful like a monkey,
Drunk like a balloon without ballast.
Your dubious heart of Sphinge
Float between the zist and the zest.
And I halette towards the starter
Vibrating centres, flexible chest
Where the grace marries the force,
And of the green eyes like the west.

Your face grows blurred through the curtains;
And you meditate, a dry fruit
Between your lips florentines
Where calms down a Greek smile.
I die of your short words…
I want that of your teeth you burst
My eye where the dreams are scrambled,
Like a macaw, of a blow of nozzle.

__________ (Per hour…, 1906)

You for whom I wrote

You for whom I wrote, O beautiful young women!
You that, only, I liked, will read again you my worms
By the future mornings snowing on the universe,
And by the future evenings of pinks and flames?

You will think, among the charming disorder
Of your scattered hair, your dresses defeats:
“This woman, through the sobs and the festivals,
With carried its glances and its lips of lover. “

Pale and breathing your embaumée flesh,
In the magic evocation of the night,
You will say: “This woman had the heat which flees me…
How it is not alive! She would have liked me… “

__________ (Per hour…, 1906)

While unloading in Mytilène

Bottom of my past, I turn over towards you,
Mytilene, through the disparate centuries,
Bringing my enthusiasm, my youth and my faith to you,
And my love, like one aromatic present…
Mytilene, through the disparate centuries,
Bottom of my past, I turn over towards you.

I find your floods, your olive-trees, your vines,
And your azure where I melt myself and me dissolved,
Your boats, and your mounts with their noble lines,
Your cicadas with the exasperated and insane cries…
Under your azure, where I melt myself and me dissolved,
I find your floods, your olive-trees, your vines.

Receive in your orchards a female couple,
Island mélodieuse and favourable with the caresses…
Among the Asian odor of the heavy jasmine,
You did not forget Psappha nor his mistresses…
Island mélodieuse and favourable with the caresses…
Receive in your orchards a female couple…

Lesbos with the gilded sides, return to us our ancient heart…
Ressuscite for us quadrants and voices,
And the old laughter, and old music
Who made so poignant the kisses of formerly…
You who guards the echo of the quadrants and the voices,
Lesbos with the gilded sides, return to us our ancient heart…

Evoke the péplos ondoyant in the evening,
Fair and russet-red gleams of chevelures,
Gold cut and collars and the mirror,
And the flower of Hyacinthe and weak murmurs…
Evoke the clearness of beautiful chevelures
And light the péplos which passed, in the evening…

When, laying out their bodies on your beds of dry algae,
The amantes threw words mow and broken,
You interfered your odors with pinks and fishings
With the long whispers which follow the kisses…
In our turn, throwing words mow and broken,
We lay out our bodies on your beds of dry algae…

Mytilene, published and splendour of the sea,
Like it changeable and it eternal,
Would be the furnace bridge today intoxications of yesterday…
Since Psappha slept with Immortal,
Accomodate us with kindness, for the love of it,
Mytilene, ornament and splendour of the sea!

__________ (Per hour of the united hands, 1906)

Without flowers with your face

You did not want to listen to me… but what imports?
O you whose virtuous ire warmed up
When I dared to come to strike with your door,
You will not gather the pinks of Psappha.

You will never see the gardens and the banks
Where the powerful agreement of sound paktis resounded,
And you will not hear the crowned chorus of the virgins,
Neither the anthem of Eranna nor the sob of Atthis.

As for me, I sang… No echo does not wake up
In your houses with the warmly deadened walls.
I from go away without anger and hatred, similar
With these which do not have parents nor friends,

I am not those which crowd re-elects,
But of those which she hates… Because I dared to conceive
That a virgin in love is more beautiful than a man,
And I sought eyes of woman at the bottom of the evening.

O my songs! we will have neither shame nor sadness
To see scorning us those which we scorn…
And it is not any more with crowd that I address myself…
I never included/understood the laws nor the reasons…

Let us let us go, my scorned songs and myself…
What imports us those which did not listen?
Let us go towards silence and the shade which I like,
And that the lapse of memory keeps us in his eternity…

__________ (Per hour…, 1906)

The Pilori

For a long time, I was nailed with the pilori,
And at the women, indicator whom I suffered, laughed.

Then, of the men took in their hands a mud
Who splashed my temples and my cheek.

The tears went up in me, surging like floods,
But my pride made me drive back my sobs.

I thus saw them, as through a dream
Dreadful and the horror is irritated and is prolonged.

The place was public and all had come,
And the women threw ingenuous laughter.

They launched out fruits with insane songs,
And the wind brought the noise of their words to me.

I felt anger and the horror to invade me.
Silently, I learned how to hate them.

The insults shingled, like whips of nettle.
When they detached me finally, I left.

I left to the liking the wind. And since then
My face is similar with the face of deaths.

__________ (Per hour…, 1906)

I cry over you…

With Mrs L.D.M…

The evening was closed again, a such dark door,
On my raptures, my dashes of yesterday…
I evoke you, splendid O! O girl of the sea!
And I come to cry you as a dead is cried.

The air of the blue horizons does not inflate any more your centres,
And your fingers without strength bent under the rings.
You did not overlap on the peak of the waves,
You which sleep today in the shade of the cushions?

The storm and the infinite one which charmed you at one time
They were not perfect and they were not worth
The calm marital one of the hearth and the meal
And safety close to the vulgar husband?

Your eyes learned art from the hot glance and mol
And the tender of the lowered eyelids.
I see you, faint at the bottom of gynécées,
The lashes bales, encircled increased by the k' hol.

Your ravaged paresses and your attitudes
The thick dream and the leisure enchanted
Of that which taught you the stupid pleasure,
O you which was the sister of the Valkyrie yesterday!

The husband shows your eyes today, if scorning
Formerly, your hands, your indifferent collar of swan,
Like one shows his corns, his garden and his vine
With admirations of the obliging friends.

Abdicate your kingdom and would be the weak wife
Without will having to want it husband…
Deliver your fluid body to the multiple movements,
Would be more flexible still with its jealous heat.

Keep this poor love, which cannot disappoint
Your spirit formerly had by the dreams…
But never take again the rough way of the strikes,
Where the algae have slow rates/rhythms of censer.

Do not listen to any more the voice of the sea, heard
Like a dream through the evening with the gold veils…
Because the evening and the sea would speak encor to you
Of your glorious and lost virginity.

__________ (Per hour…, 1906)

Scorn of Psappha

You who judge me, you are nothing for me.
I contemplated the infinite shades too much.
I do not have the pride of your flowers, nor fear
Of your calumnies.

You will not be able to tarnish pity
Of my passion for the beauty of the women,
Changeantes as well as the setting ones of summer,
Floods and flames.

Nothing will soil the dazzling faces
What passes very close to my broken songs and my breath.
Like a Statue in the middle of the passers by,
I have the serene heart.

__________ (Venus of the blind men, 1904)

Porcelain sonnet

The evening, opening with the wind its wings of moth,
Evoke a memory fragilely rosy,
The memory, concerning like Saxony broken,
Of your fresh porcelain naivety.

Our room of yesterday, where dies marjoram,
Any more your glance full with slated sky will not have,
Nor your puerile astonishment and crafty one…
O shivers of your nape of the neck where my breath burned!

And my heart, whose peace does not fear any more your return,
Any more its poor wretch love will not sanglotera,
Frail appearance which silence wakes up!

Far from sincere April of venoms and honeies,
You mouse, bringing the flowers of your basket to me,
Invaluable flowers of the artificial fields.

__________ (Venus of the blind men, 1904)


In my heart the miracle of the pinks flowered.
To put it at the shelter, tenons closed doors.

I defend my happiness, like one makes treasures,
Against the hard glances and the noises of the outside.

The curtains are drawn on odorous silence.
Where the hour with the equal course runs with nonchalance.

No breath makes tremble the mimosa
On which, while singing, a flight of birds weighed.

Our room appears a motionless garden
Where wandering perfumes come to find asylum.

My existence is like an accomplished voyage.
It is the calm one, it is the refuge, it is the lapse of memory.

To keep this made peace of pink gleams,
O my Serenity! tenons closed doors.

The lamp takes care on the deadened books,
And fire dances, and the pieces of furniture are our friends.

I do not know any more the icy aspect of the street
Where each one passes, with a haste recruit.

I do not know any more if us are slandered, nor if
One speaks encor… the words do not make more badly here.

Your hair is more beautiful than a forest of autumn,
And your concerned art the braid and orders them.

Yes, the whispers lost their venom,
And the hatred of others is nothing any more but one benign evil.

Your green dress has wild grass shivers,
My friend, and your eyes are full with landscapes.

Who would come, us to disturb, we who are so far
Men? two children forgotten in a corner?

Far from the surging paving stones where the pinks fade,
Where are éraillent the songs, tenons the closed doors….

__________ (Per hour…, 1906)

With the Beloved

You are my palate, my evening and my autumn,
And my silk sail and my garden of lily,
My gold cassolette and my white column,
My by this my pond of reeds and iris.

You are my honey and amber perfumes, my palm
My foliages, my songs of cicadas in the air,
My snow which dies to be haughty and calm,
And my algae and my landscapes of sea.

And you are my bell with the monotonous sob,
My fresh island and my helpful oasis…
You are my palate, my evening and my autumn,
And my silk sail and my garden of lily.

__________ (Per hour…, 1906)

Would be Femme…

Very expensive, would be more woman still, if you want
To like to me more and would be weak and be tender,
Mix with art the flowers which relative your hair,
And can incline you with the balcony to wait.

What it is of more serious in a futile world,
It is to be beautiful and it is to like the eyes surprised,
To be the pure summit, and the oasis, and the island,
And vague music with the misunderstood language.

That one changing universe is transformed into your face,
That your dress is combined with the color of the day,
And selected your perfumes with a sagacious art,
Since a light perfume can attract the love.

Motionless in the middle of the days, would be attentive
As if you followed the meanders of a song,
Your idleness in the shade of a bank lengthens,
To be under the cypresses in the shade of the setting one.

Would be remote, would be the Presence of the ruins
In the destroyed palates where Friesian the winter,
In the temples collapsing in the sibylline shades,
And suffers from dead from the sun on the sea.

As one which one hates the race and which one exiles,
Would be weak and speaks low, and goes with slowness.
Expire each evening with the feverish day,
Fail of a noise and die of a scent.

Being thus what my dream would have done to you,
Receive my love an enthusiastic homage,
O you which know how much the sky is disappointing
With feverish curiosities of the poet!

And I will find in your single voice,
In the radiation of your single face,
All the old pump and old music
And the tragedy love of the queens of formerly.

Your beautiful hair will be my royal diadem,
My sirens of yesterday will sing in your voice.
You will be all that I adored formerly,
You only will incarnate the love various which I like.

__________ (extinguished Torches, 1907)

Small erotic poem

And I regret and I seek your soft kiss.
Could I like which woman and calm down?
Which would bring old pleasures
On do lips without make-up and similar with hold?

I know, you lied, your laughter sounded hollow
But your kiss was slow, narrow and tasty,
It was delayed, and this kiss reached the heart,
Because you were at the same time the snake and the woman.

But remember in the way in which I loved you…
Me, am I nothing in your flesh? If ever
You sanglotas my name in the moment without defense,
Remember this cry followed by a great silence.

I cannot like the beautiful songs any more nor the lilies
And my house resembles large the nécropolis.
Me which would like to sing, I remain dumb.
I wish and I seek and especially I regret…

__________ (Wakes, 1908)

It remains in its palate…

It remains in its palate, close to the Bosphorus,
Where the moon extends as in a pearly bed…
Its mouth is prohibited and its body is crowned,
And no one to be, except me, still did not dare the étreindre.

Cauteleux negros are used it for knees…
Humble, they however have glances of threat
Fugitive with equal of a russet-red flash which passes…
Their smile is very white and their gestures are soft…

They are thus bad because they are eunuques
And that which I like has of the eyes without similar,
Full with abysses, seas, deserts, suns,
Who make vibrate love marrows and the napes of the neck.

Their anger is the heinous cry of the pain…
And me, I excuse them by feeling it so beautiful,
So far from them forever, so close to me… For it,
She sees them suffering into corrosive a flower.

I enter the palate bathed by charming water,
Where the shade is calm, where silence is infinite,
Where, on the fresh carpets more than one linked pasture,
With slowness the steps of my amante slip.

My Sultana with the black eyes awaits me, like formerly.
Jasmines enlaceurs veil the jealousies…
I admire, by admiring it, his ornaments chosen,
And my heart clings to the rings its fingers.

Our caresses have cruel enthusiasms
And of fears and the laughter of despair…
Later a softness falls, similar to the evening,
And they are kisses of sister, after the spasms.

She rectifies a fold of her dress, while laughing…
And I evoke his body matured by the light
Near the mien, in some unequal cemetery,
Under the shade without terror of the cypresses of the East.

__________ (Extinguished Torches, 1907)

The pinks entered

My brown with the gilded eyes, your amber and ivory body
With left luminous reflections in the room
Above the garden.

Clear sky of midnight, under my closed eyelids,
Radiate encor… I am drunk of so many pinks
Redder than the wine.

Forsaking their garden, the pinks followed me…
I drink their short breath, I breathe their life.
All, they are there.

It is the miracle… the stars entered,
Hasty, through the broken panes
Whose molten gold ran.

Now, among the pinks and stars,
Te here in my room, giving up your veils,
And your nudity shone.

On my eyes your inexpressible glance was posed…
Without stars and flowers, I dream the impossible one
In the cold of the night.

__________ (Extinguished Torches, 1907)

Pinks of the evening

Pinks on the sea, of the pinks in the evening,
And you who come by far, heavy hands of pinks!
I aspire your beauty. The setting one makes rain
Its fine gold ashes and its pink dust…

Pinks on the sea, of the pinks in the evening.

An evocative dream holds my closed eyelids.
I wait, too not knowing until I wait in vain,
In front of the similar sea with the bronze shields,
And you come here while bringing pinks to me…
O pinks in the sky and the evening! O my pinks!

__________ (Evocation, 1903)


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