The Yale Anthology of Twentieth-Century French Poetry

MICHEL DEGUY

Here Often I Am

And

and they die

and you die

and we die

and she / he / it dies

and you again

and I die

Here often I am a little like still a
Little and I could cry at any moment was it
Two million three hundred ten thousand nine hundred thirty-two
Seven hundred twenty-four thousand eight hundred sixty-four
It seemed to me that suddenly I was about to cry
When will we have done with

Speaking thusly he was stretching toward his son, magnificent Hector But the
child at the breast of the nurse with a beautiful sash / Drew back crying, his
father’s looks terrify him, He is afraid of bronze and the horsehair crest / terrible
at the top of the helmet he sees it move / His father his noble mother burst out
laughing / At once he took his helmet from his head, magnificent Hector / And
he placed it on the ground shining all over / Then his son he kissed him he took
him in his arms / He said invoking Zeus and the other gods /

Just a moment more executioner
It will be over in an instant
Just a moment more executioner
Because it shines, the scene, because
It goes to the eyes the day moved to tears
To tears in the eyes that are going to leave all that
That were not even aware of it before

All that one will have to take away

The o√er holds, what we were deprived of

A god gathers the world at his arms

That he did not know He must go back

As If

There Were

Nothing To It

—clayton eshleman