Forgive me that I no longer understand poetry’s ancient game
I don’t know anything and love solely
My eyes’ flowers become flames once again
I meditate divinely
And I smile at beings I haven’t created
But if a time comes when shadow solid at last
Multiplies achieving my love’s explicit diversity
I’d admire my work
I observe Sunday’s repose
And praise laziness
How how reduce
The infinitely small knowledge
My senses impose
One equals the mountains the sky
Cities equals my love
It resembles the seasons
It lives beheaded its head’s the sun
And the moon its chopped neck
I’d like to try infinite ardor
My hearing’s monster you howl and weep
Thunder’s your hair
And your claws echo birdcalls
The monstrous touch pierces me poisons me
My eyes swim far off from my self
And the intact stars are my unproven masters
The beast of smoke has a blossoming head
And the most beautiful monster
With its taste of laurel grieves
*
Lies at last no longer frighten me
It’s the moon that sizzles like an egg in the pan
This water droplet necklace will adorn the drowned girl
Here’s my bouquet of Passion flowers
Tenderly offering two crowns of thorns
The streets are damp from the recent rain
Diligent angels work for me at home
The moon and sadness will vanish during
The whole blessed day
The whole blessed day I’ve walked singing
A woman leaning from her window watched me a long while
Withdrawing singing
*
On the street corner I watched some sailors
Dancing barenecked to an accordion
I’ve given all to the sun
All save my shadow
Dragnets haybales half-dead sirens
At the foggy horizon schooners sank
The winds have died down wreathed with anemones
O Virgin pure sign of the third month
*
Flamboyant Templers I burn amongst you
Let’s prophesy together o grand master I’m
The desirable fire that devours itself for you
And the girandole turns o lovely o lovely night
Bonds burst by a free flame Ardor
My breath snuffs O those dead at forty
I draw a bead on my death the glory the misfortune
As if I spotted a clay pigeon
Uncertainty fake painted bird when you fell
The sun and love danced in the village
And your gallant children well or shabbily dressed
Built this pyre the nest of my courage