Monday, October 1, 2012

Hélène Martin - Louis Aragon - The Fire

Original Title: "Le feu"
Text: Louis Aragon
My God, My God, it doesn't die out
All my forest, I'm here burning
I mistook this fire for dusk
I believed my heart to be at its last step

I was always waiting for the day to become ash
I read getting old where wicker breaks
I watched out for the moment after the blaze
I listened to the song of ashes, going down

I was of the knife, of the age throat cut
I brought my fingers where living bleeds me
Measuring this way the end of my rule
The little I've left and the nothing I have

But as pain ought to end
Sometimes I took my contentment from it
Betting on the shadow and the moment
Where the door opening, tears the dream.

But as much as I want to be done with it,
Look in this body for the alarm and alert
The absence and the night, the abyss and the loss
of which I bear in me the deep denial

There is a wind rising there that is something of a miracle
The approach of you making me spring
I've never had in my life so much
even in your arms, today vertigo

The pain of loving perpetuates the flame
In me the fire deploys its devastations
To nothing served, nor time, nor age
My soul, my soul, where are you taking me?
Where are you taking me?

All poems written by Louis Aragon

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