PAUL ÉLUARDShe Exists
She exists, but only at midnight, when the wings of the white birds have folded
on the ignorance of darkness, when their sister, whose pearls cannot be counted,
has hidden her hands in her lifeless hair, when the victor delights in his own tears,
weary of worshiping the not-yet-known, the virile and gleaming armor of sen-
suality. So kind is she that my heart has been transformed. No longer do I fear the
great shadows weaving the fabric of play and finery. No longer do I fear the twists
and turns of the evening sun, the unbreakable branches, cleansing the windows of
all the confessionals where sleeping women await us.
O torso of memory, mistaken form, absent lines, flame extinguished behind
my closed eyes. In the presence of your grace I am as a child in water, a bouquet in
a forest. Nocturnal, the universe moves in your warmth, and in the streets of the
cities of yesterday gestures appear, more delicate than the hawthorn, more grip-
ping than the hour. Far o√, the land is streaked with motionless smiles. The sky
encloses life. A new star of love rises in all directions—finished, there are no
further proofs of the night.
—mary ann caws
The Earth Is Blue like an Orange
The earth is blue like an orange
Never an error words do not lie
They no longer supply what to sing with
It’s up to kisses to get along
Mad ones and lovers
She her wedding mouth
All secrets all smiles
And what indulgent clothing
She looks quite naked.
The wasps are flowering green
Dawn is placing around its neck
A necklace of windows
Wings cover up the leaves
You have all the solar joys
All sunshine on the earth
On the paths of your loveliness.
—mary ann caws