The Yale Anthology of Twentieth-Century French Poetry

Jacques Réda 1929–

lunéville, france

A

tireless and inveterate walker, Réda gathers material for his writing

from his peregrinations around Paris. The writer has characterized his

books as walking tours through narrative, in which his characters are

monuments. From 1987 to 1995 Réda served as editor-in-chief of the Nouvelle

Revue Française. He is also a contributor to Jazz magazine. Principal works:

Amen, 1968; Récitatif, 1970; Les Ruines de Paris, 1977; L’Improviste, 1980; Hors les

murs, 1982; L’Herbe des talus, 1984; Celle qui vient à pas léger, 1985; Châteaux des

courants d’air, 1986; Recommendations aux promeneurs, 1988; Retour au calme,

1989; Le Sens de la marche, 1990; La Liberté des rues, 1997; La Course, 1999; Moyens

de transport, 2000.

Autumn Distance

And then one September evening, after these luminous days,
The sun is only a hunter between the moors and the clouds;
Lying in wait as the forest withdraws into itself,
At a distance from the chill ray.
Crackings everywhere keep watch over the silence
And the blackberry in the thicket pro√ers its black bunches
To nobody.
It’ll be dark in an hour. The sky,
Very pale, holds back, and no longer touches the grass
Or the waters which return to the slanted depth.
Drink, gentle animals.
—stephen romer

Amen

I call on no saviour, there’s no gleam in the night.
The death I need to put against my flesh, like a woman,
Is the stone of humility I must touch in spirit.
The lowest rung, the intolerable severance
From what I shall clutch at, earth or hand, in the unexampled abandon of this
period—