Original Title: "Les Mains d'Elsa"
Text: Louis Aragon (1963)
Year: 1966
Give me your hands for the anxiety
Give me your hands of which I've dreamt so much
Of which I've dreamt so much in my loneliness
Give me your hands so that I'm saved.
When I take them at my own trap
of palm and fear, of haste and emotion
When I take them like a water of snow
that melts from everywhere in my own hands
Will you ever know what goes through me,
What overwhelms me and what invades me
Will you ever know what pierces me,
What I betrayed when I flinched
What the deep language says that way
That mute way of speaking of animal senses
Without mouth and without eyes, mirror without image
That simmer of loving that has no words
Will you ever know what the fingers think
of a prey held a moment between them.
Will you ever know what their silence,
a flash, would have known of unknown
Give me your hands for my heart to form there
for the world to go quiet there at least a moment
Give me your hands for my soul to sleep there
For my soul to sleep there eternally.
Marc Ogeret's version:
All poems written by Louis Aragon
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