By the road of ways
In the three-part shadow of troubled sleep
I come to you the double the multiple
as like you as the era of deltas.
Your head is as tiny as mine
The nearby sea reigns with spring
Over the summers of your fragile form
And here one burns bundles of ermine.
In the wandering transparency
of your noble face
these floating animals are wonderful
I envy their candour their inexperience
Your inexperience on the bed of waters
Finds the road of love without bowing
By the road of ways
and without the talisman that reveals
your laughter at the crowd of women
and your tears no one wants.
Paul Éluard (1895 – 1952) France
Translated by A. S. Kline
Source: Poets of Modernity Translations into English by A. S. Kline
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