mango and palm trees. Nature certainly belongs more to Durand’s semantic field than to
Coicou’s. The descriptive details in later stanzas when evoking the palm tree as the emblem of
liberty bear striking resemblances to those in other poems by Durand which I will examine later
in this chapter. The verses of just four syllables cited above, which begin with “Salut, ô
plaines!,” are also common in some of the sketches of the Haitian landscape in the second book
of Rires et Pleurs. After these verses, however, another shift occurs, for despite a preference to
delight in nature, the reality of the country’s miseries inevitably surfaces in the following
sections. It thus seems to be Coicou, who as the more exclusive patriotic poet, now seeks to
reconcile a series of contradictions, wondering how this paradisiacal island could also have been
the locus of slavery. He wonders if poetry could be the antidote for past suffering and eventually
finds solace in the Haitian Revolution. The heroic feats of Haitian revolutionaries led to
repossessing the land and founding a new nation:
Qui nous inspirera?... –Sera-ce Dessalines
Dont le hardi courage a chassé l’étranger?
Qui nous légua ton sol et tes vertes collines
Où fleurit en tout temps l’élégant oranger? (57-60)
Coicou’s epic poetry rests frequently with the revolutionary leaders like Dessalines and
Toussaint Louverture, without whom the natural beauties of the island could never have been
claimed. After both Durand and Coicou have spoken, however, the “voix,” who speaks as a
national muse, rejects what both poets have offered. Instead, this voice declares that poetry
should reflect the tragic reality of the country’s current strife. She responds to their questions in
a long diatribe that begins in this way:
Non! Mais faites vibrer vos cordes argentines
Sur les hideux tableaux qu’offre notre pays,
Et, racontant à tous nos guerres intestines
Parlez de ces tyrans des valets obéis! (66-69)