Paul Éluard: Poetry in a Time of Dislocation

Editor’s note: This is the ninth installment in the series “Poetry in a Time of Dislocation.” Fine art photographer Fern Nesson asserts that the place for art is critical during this time of pandemic, and she has immersed herself in the French poets, translating important works and sharing them as photo essays. This week, Fern focuses on Paul Éluard, born in Saint-Denis in 1895.

(Click here for previous installments: Charles Baudelaire, Guillaume Apollinaire, Paul Valéry, Christine de Pizan, Paul Verlaine, Alphonse de Lamartine and Anna de Noailles.)

Paul Éluard was one of the great 20th century symbolist poets. He focused on creating poetic images which could allow the reader to experience his poems both visually and through his senses. “La Courbe de tes Yeux” is the ultimate in love poetry; it speaks of life lived only within a lover’s gaze. It is a classic example of Éluard’s skill in creating lovely poetic images.

“La Courbe de tes Yeux” (1924)

La courbe de tes yeux fait le tour de mon coeur,
Un rond de danse et de douceur,

Auréole du temps, berceau nocturne et sûr,
Et si je ne sais plus tout ce que j’ai vécu
C’est que tes yeux ne m’ont pas toujours vu.

Feuilles de jour et mousse de rosée,
Roseaux du vent, sourires parfumés,
Ailes couvrant le monde de lumière,

Bateaux chargés du ciel et de la mer,
Chasseurs des bruits et sources de couleurs,
Parfums éclos d’une couvée d’aurores
Qui gît toujours sur la paille des astres,

Comme le jour dépend de l’innocence
Le monde entier dépend de tes yeux purs
Et tout mon sang coule dans leurs regards.

My Translation

The curves of your eyes trace a path on my heart
in a gentle circle dance,
The corona of their light cradles me at night
and I am certain that my life began
only after your eyes first beheld me.

Like the swift passage of days,
dewdrops,
reeds swaying in the breeze,
or perfumed smiles,

Your eyes are wings veiling the world of light,
boats skimming between sky and sea,
messengers of wind and sources of colors,
scents blooming in nascent dawns as they
emerge from their bed of stars

As each day dawns in innocence,
my whole world depends upon the clarity
of your eyes
and my blood flows only in their gaze.