Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE SONG OF THE ILL-BELOVED; TO PAUL LEAUTARD, by GUILLAUME APOLLINAIRE Poem Explanation Poet's Biography First Line: And this is the ballad that I sang / in 1903 not knowing then Last Line: And such songs as the sirens sing Alternate Author Name(s): Kostrowitzky, Wilhelm Apollina Subject(s): Desire; Love; Singing & Singers; Songs | ||||||||
And this is the ballad that I sang In 1903 not knowing then How like a Phoenix is my love For if it dies one night the next Morning sees it born again One London night in a half fog A draggled boy accosted me So like my love that when I felt The glance that touched me from his eyes I dropped my own in modesty I followed this perverse kid as He strolled along hands pocketed And whistling The Red Sea ditch With houses lining either side I was Pharaoh he the Jews Let these brick waves wash down on us If once I did not love you well I am great Egypt's sovereign lord His sister-wife and all his host If you are not my only love At the turn of a burning street each house- front suppurated fiery wounds Of mist and blood all the facades In lamentation cried aloud A woman who resembled him I knew at once the inhuman eyes The naked neck with the ragged scar That came out staggering from some bar The moment that I recognized How great a cheat is love itself When after many a weary year Ulysses that good man reached home His ancient dog remembered him His wife was waiting for him near A rug she'd woven thick and fine The royal mate of Sacontale Bored with his triumphs was well pleased To find her with love-faded eyes And face delay had made more pale Petting her little male gazelle I thought of those happy royalties That night when love betraying and She whom I loved and do love still Beset me with their sleight of ghosts Contriving my unhappiness Hell's built on such regrets as these A Heav'n of forgetfulness revealed For a kiss from her all the world's kings Would have gladly died poor famous things And bartered their own shades willingly I have been wintering in my past O Easter sunlight come again To warm a heart more frozen than Sebastus' was by forty such My life has suffered briefer pain Fair ship O Memory have we two Sailed long enough upon a sea Too sour for drinking and gone astray From sweet dawn to nagging night Mindless heedless of our way O false farewells O love involved In her who takes her leave of me The loved woman whom I lost That last year in Germany And whom I shall not again see O Galaxy O luminous Sister of the white Canaan rills And the white flesh of girls in love Shall we not swim in death along That course toward systems further still I call to mind another year The dawning of an April day I sang my darling pleasure I Sang as a man sings of his love In the love-rising of the year AUBADE SUNG AT LAETARE A YEAR SINCE Spring's come again Arise Paquette And walk with me in the pretty woods The hens go cluckcluck in the yard Dawn hangs the sky up in pink folds Love's on the march to take you dear Mars and Venus have come back To drink each other's lips in love There in the open where roses lean Leafing shelteringly above The naked dance of the rose gods Oh come this is my love's domain The heavy flowers yield to love Nature is all immediacy Pan plays his woodland pipes again The damp frogs have begun their song Those gods are mostly dead For them It is the weeping willows weep The great god Pan Love Jesus Christ Utterly dead and tomcats wail In Paris courtyards I too weep I who have lays fit for a queen And love-compleynts for all my years The choruses of fisher slaves The ballad of the ill-beloved And such songs as the Sirens sing For love's dead and I shake therefore Idols of him I now adore Mementoes in his likeness made Thus like Mausolus' wife I droop Faithful in grief forevermore For I am true as a bull-pup To his master or as ivy to the trunk Or the Zaporozhian Cossacks drunk Brigandish and full of prayers To their native steppes and the Decalogue Under the Crescent bow your necks That Crescent that the Mages quiz I am the Sultan King of Kings Zaporozhian Cossacks Ecce Rex Your Sovereign your Dazzling Lord Subjects swear fealty to me Thus he had written to them once But when they'd got his words aright They laughed and sat down cheerfully To answer him by candlelight REPLY OF THE ZAPOROZHIAN COSSACKS TO THE SULTAN OF CONSTANTINOPLE You are worse news than Barabbas was Horn'd like the Angels of the Pit Are you there you old Beelzebub Suckled on drainage and filthy mud We must decline Walpurgisnacht Spoilt fishfood from Saloniki Interminable necklace of bad nights Of eyes gouged out and speared on spikes Your mother let a squishy fart And of her gut-cramp you were born Podolian hangman Fancier Of gashes ulcers and scab-crust Arse of horse and snout of hog Keep whatever gold you've got To pay the druggist for your drugs O Galaxy O luminous Sister of the white Canaan rills And the white flesh of girls in love Shall we not swim in death along Your course toward systems further still The hurt that troubles a whore's eyes Lovely as a panther is Your kisses Love were Florentine And tasted of such bitterness As canceled both our destinies An evening rout of trembling stars Trailed from those eyes and Sirens swam Therein and our quick kisses bit Deep into blood our fury moved Our fairy godmothers to tears Surely I wait for her return I wait with all my heart and soul And on Come-back-to-me-dear Bridge If we must never meet again I'll tell her That's all right by me My heart is drained and so's my head All heaven it seems runs out of them To fill my Danaid casks Shall I Ever find happiness instead The innocence of a small child I would not drive her from my mind O dove O roadstead calm and white Daisy exfoliate Isle remote My land of dreaming My Cockayne My gillyflower and my rose Satyrs and pyralides Aegipans and will-o'-the-wisps Fates frustrate or fates fortunate A Calais choke-string round my neck What holocaust of miseries O sorrow multiplying fate The unicorn the capricorn My soul and wavering body fly From you Torment divine adorned With all the morning's flower stars Unhappiness pale god with eyes Of ivory your mad priests bring Your victims wrapped in robes of black And have they shed their tears in vain God in whom no man need have faith And you that follow after me Cringing god of my gods that died In autumn You mark off the hours Of earth that still are left to me My Shade and my inveterate Snake We walked together in the sun Because remember you love it so Shadowy wife I love you too You are mine for ever nothing you My ghost wears mourning for myself Winter with all its snow is dead The gleaming hives are all burnt down Birds on branches overhead Sing springtime light sing April bright For orchard plot and garden bed Argyraspids undying strike The silver-targed snow gives way Before the pale Dendrophori Of spring that simple people like And wet eyes learn to smile again And me my heart's as thumping fat As the arse of a wife from the Middle East I loved you too much O my love I have found too much hurt in love Now seven swords leap from the sheath Seven subtle blades of grief Transfix my heart O lucent pain My foolish mind would justify My plight but the excuse is vain Forget you say But how can I THE SEVEN SWORDS The first sword is pure silver and Paline they call its vibrant name Its blade a wintry snowing sky Ghibelline blood its destiny When he had forged it Vulcan died The second blade is named Noubosse Oh rainbow of delight The gods Handle it at their wedding feasts It's killed thirty Be-Rieux at least Its power came from Carabosse The third is all a woman's blue But Cypriape for all of that They call it Lul de Faltenin And Hermes Ernest a midget now Brings it in on a tablecloth The fourth is known as Malourene A river running green and gold And river girls at evening bathe The worship of their bodies in That stream and singing boatmen pass The fifth sword's name is Sainte-Fabeau Prettiest of the distaff kind A cypress shadowing a tomb Where the four winds fall to their knees And every night's a torch ablaze A glory of metal is the sixth Our friend with such small hands from whom Each morning forces us to part Good-bye that's the road you must take Crowing has drained the cock's shrill heart The seventh lies exhausted here A woman a dead rose also Thank you the last man to appear Shut the door upon my love I have not known you all these years O Galaxy O luminous Sister of the white Canaan rills And the white flesh of girls in love Shall we not swim in death along That course toward systems further still The quiring firmament declares That dicing devils guide our steps The scrape of those lost fiddles cheers Our human dance as we descend Backwards into the abyss What fate inscrutable is this The shaking madness of great kings A sky of stiff stars shivering Faithless women for your beds In deserts crushed by history The old Prince Regent Leopold Male nurse of two mad Heads of State Does he sob himself to sleep for them While fireflies flash their sparkling light Gilded for Midsummer's Night A chateau without a chatelaine And a barque with barcarolles near by On a lake of white touched by the breath Of delicate breezes It was like A Siren sailing a dying swan One day the King drowned in that flood Of silver but floated up again Mouth wide open and lay down Upon the bank to sleep awhile Face up beneath the fickle sky Your sun O June your ardent lyre Scorches the fingers of my hand Pain-singing ecstasy of fire I stroll through my fine Paris and Have no heart for dying there Each Sunday is eternity Barrel organs creak their grief In dingy courtyards flowers lean From these Parisian balconies Like towers in a Pisan scene Nights in Paris drunk on gin Aflare with electricity Trams trail green fire along their spines Take the long rails melodiously Musicking the insane machine Paunchy with smoke the cafes grunt Love love love from the gypsy dance Love from siphons sniffly-nosed Love from the apron'd waiter-boys Love from you love whom I loved I who have lays fit for a queen And love-compleynts for all my years The choruses of fisher slaves The balled of the ill-beloved And such songs as the Sirens sing | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE APOLLO TRIO by CONRAD AIKEN BAD GIRL SINGING by MARK JARMAN CHAMBER MUSIC: 4 by JAMES JOYCE CHAMBER MUSIC: 5 by JAMES JOYCE CHAMBER MUSIC: 28 by JAMES JOYCE THE SONG OF THE NIGHTINGALE IS LIKE THE SCENT OF SYRINGA by MINA LOY AUTUMN by GUILLAUME APOLLINAIRE |
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