ooc for national poetry month

[alonewiththemoon]

though come to think of it, this poem might be in character, too.

Vigilence (Andre Breton)

In Paris the tottering Saint-Jacques tower
Like a sunflower
Sometimes strikes the Seine with its brow and its shadow
glides imperceptibly among the tugboats
At that moment on tiptoe in my sleep
I move towards the room where I am lying
And I set it on fire
So that nothing remains of that acquiescence wrung from me
The furniture then gives way to animals of the same size
who gaze at me fraternally
Lions in whose manes the chairs are consumed to the last
Sharks whose white belly absorbs the last flutter of the sheets
At the hour of love and blue eyelids
I seem myself burning in turn I see this solemn hiding place of nothings
Which was my body
Probed by the patient beaks of the ibises of fire

(and in the spirit of surrealism, here is the French text run through babelfish:

Sometimes to Paris the staggering tower Saint-Jacob Pareille with a sunflower Of the face comes to run up against the Seine and its shade slips imperceptibly among the tug boats At this time on the point of the feet into my sleep I move towards the room where I am extended And j'y mets fire So that nothing remains of this assent qu'on m'a torn off the pieces of furniture then make place with of the same animals cuts which look at me fraternally Lions in the manes of which complete to be consumed the Squales chairs of which the white belly s'incorpore the last shiver of cloths With l'heure of l'amour and the blue eyelids I see myself burning in my turn I see this solemn hiding-place of riens Which was my Fouillée body by the patient nozzles of the ibis of fire

I rather like that last bit, the patient nozzles of the ibis of fire.)

Comments

[rojagato.livejournal.com]

Awesome. Good choice!

I like the patient nozzles, as well.