Classic and Contemporary Poetry
LETTRES D'UN SOLDAT (1914-1915), by WALLACE STEVENS Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: No introspective chaos -- I accept Subject(s): World War I; First World War | ||||||||
Combattre avec ses fr??res, ?? sa place, ?? son rang, avec des yeux dessill??s, sans espoir de la gloire et de profit, et simplement parceque telle est la loi, voil?? le commandement que donne le dieu au guerrier Arjuna, quand celui-ci doute s'il doit se d??tourner de l'absolu pour le cauchemar humain de la bataille. . . . Simplement qu'Arjuna bande son arc avec les autres Kshettryas! (Pr??face d'Andr?? Chevrillon.) I Jamais la majest?? de la nuit ne m'apporta autant de consolation qu'en cette accumulation d'??preuves. V??nus, ??tincelante, m'est une amie. (27 septembre) The spirit wakes in the night wind-is naked. What is it that hides in the night wind Near by it? Is it, once more, the mysterious beaut??, Like a woman inhibiting passion In solace?- The multiform beauty, sinking in night wind, Quick to be gone, yet never Quite going! She will leap back from the swift constellations, As they enter the place of their western Seclusion. II Ce qu'il faut, c'est reconna??tre l'amour et la beaut?? triomphante de toute violence. (22 octobre) Anecdotal Revery The streets contain a crowd Of blind men tapping their way By inches- This man to complain to the grocer Of yesterday's cheese, This man to visit a woman, This man to take the air. Am I to pick my way Through these crickets?- I, that have a head In the bag Slung over my shoulder! I have secrets That prick Like a heart full of pins. Permit me, gentlemen, I have killed the mayor And am escaping from you. Get out of the way! (The blind men strike him down with their sticks.) III Jusqu'?? pr??sent j'ai poss??d?? une sagesse de renoncement, mais maintenant je veux une sagesse qui accepte tout, en s'orientant vers l'action future. (31 octobre) Morale And so France feels. A menace that impends, Too long, is like a bayonet that bends. IV Si tu voyais la s??curit?? des petits animaux des bois-souris, mulots! L'autre jour, dans notre abri de feuillage, je suivais les ??volutions de ces petits b??tes. Elles ??taient jolies comme une estampe japonaise, avec l'int??rieur de leurs oreilles rose comme un coquillage. (7 novembre) Comme Dieu Dispense de Gr??ces Here I keep thinking of the Primitives- The sensitive and conscientious schemes Of mountain pallors ebbing into air; And I remember sharp Japonica- The driving rain, the willows in the rain, The birds that wait out rain in willow trees. Although life seems a goblin mummery, These images return and are increased, As for a child in an oblivion: Even by mice-these scamper and are still. They cock small ears, more glistening and pale Than fragile volutes in a rose sea-shell. V J'ai la ferme esp??rance; mais surtout j'ai confiance en la justice ??ternelle, quelque surprise qu'elle cause ?? l'humaine id??e que nous en avons. (26 novembre) The Surprises of the Superhuman The palais de justice of chambermaids Tops the horizon with its colonnades. If it were lost in Uebermenschlichkeit, Perhaps our wretched state would soon come right. For somehow the brave dicta of its kings Make more awry our faulty human things. VI Bien ch??re m??re aim??e, . . . Pour ce qui est de ton coeur, j'ai tellement confiance en ton courage, qu'?? l'heure actuelle cette certitude est mon grand r??confort. Je sais que ma m??re a atteint ?? cette libert?? d'??me qui permet de contempler le spectacle universel. (7 d??cembre) There is another mother whom I love, O ch??re maman, another, who, in turn, Is mother to the two of us, and more, In whose hard service both of us endure Our petty portion in the sacrifice. Not France! France also serves the invincible eye, That, from her helmet terrible and bright, Commands the armies; the relentless arm, Devising proud, majestic issuance. Wait now; have no rememberings of hope, Poor penury. There will be voluble hymns Come swelling, when, regardless of my end, The mightier mother raises up her cry: And little will or wish, that day, for tears. VII La seule sanction pour moi est ma conscience. Il faut nous confier ?? une justice impersonelle, ind??pendante de tout facteur humain; et ?? une destin??e utile et harmonieuse malgr?? toute horreur de forme. (15 janvier) Negation Hi! The creator too is blind, Struggling toward his harmonious whole, Rejecting intermediate parts- Horrors and falsities and wrongs; Incapable master of all force, Too vague idealist, overwhelmed By an afflatus that persists. For this, then, we endure brief lives, The evanescent symmetries From that meticulous potter's thumb. VIII Hier soir, rentrant dans -?? ma grange, ivresse, rixes, cris, chants, et hurlements. Voil?? la vie! (4 f??vrier) John Smith and his son John Smith, And his son's son John, and-a-one And-a-two and-a-three And-a-rum-tum-tum, and-a Lean John, and his son, lean John, And his lean son's John, and-a-one And-a-two and-a-three And-a-drum-rum-rum, and-a Rich John, and his son, rich John, And his rich son's John, and-a-one And-a-two and-a-three And-a-pom-pom-pom, and-a Wise John, and his son, wise John, And his wise son's John, and-a-one And-a-two and-a-three And-a-fee and-a-fee and-a-fee And-a-fee-fo-fum- Voil?? la vie, la vie, la vie, And-a-rummy-tummy-tum And-a-rummy-tummy-tum. IX La mort du soldat est pr??s des choses naturelles. (5 mars) Life contracts and death is expected, As in a season of autumn. The soldier falls. He does not become a three-days' personage, Imposing his separation, Calling for pomp. Death is absolute and without memorial, As in a season of autumn, When the wind stops. When the wind stops and, over the heavens, The clouds go, nevertheless, In their direction. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...D'ANNUNZIO by ERNEST HEMINGWAY 1915: THE TRENCHES by CONRAD AIKEN TO OUR PRESIDENT by KATHARINE LEE BATES THE HORSES by KATHARINE LEE BATES CHILDREN OF THE WAR by KATHARINE LEE BATES THE U-BOAT CREWS by KATHARINE LEE BATES THE RED CROSS NURSE by KATHARINE LEE BATES WAR PROFITS by KATHARINE LEE BATES THE UNCHANGEABLE by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |
|