Archives de Catégorie: ECRIVAINS-POETES

Henri de Régnier

Publié par DantéBéa le

« No fragrance is sweeter than that of a rose
When one remembers having breathed it in
Or when the ardent bottle, where its soul is enclosed,
Preserves in crystal the captured aroma.

That is why, if ever with fever and delight
I felt your body thrust into my arms
After having long suffered the bitter torment
Of my secret desire that you did not know,

If, by turns, silent, urgent, humble, fierce,
Prowling around you in the shadows, suddenly,
I finally plucked the flower from your lips,
O you, my dear pleasure who were my torment.

If I have known through you the unparalleled intoxication
Whose voluptuous or tender fury
Mysteriously reborn and awakens
Each time my heart beats against yours,

However, neither the close caress, nor the embrace
Nor the double kiss that Desire makes things short
Two beautiful eyes whose flame is extinguished are worthless
In that divine rest one tastes after love!. « (Henri de Régnier)

Philip Pullman

Publié par DantéBéa le

« I will always love you, no matter what. Until my death, and after my death, and when I leave the land of the dead, I will wander endlessly, my atoms will drift, until I find you again. » (Philip Pullman)

Publié par DantéBéa le

« It is within the limits of denial that belief begins. »(DantéBéa)

Jules Barbey d’Aurevilly

Publié par DantéBéa le

“Passions do less harm than boredom, because passions always tend to diminish, while boredom always tends to increase.” (Jules Barbey d’Aurevilly)

Charles Baudelaire

Publié par DantéBéa le

« I am beautiful, O mortals! Like a dream of stone,
And my breast, where each one has been bruised in turn,
Is made to inspire in the poet a love
Eternal and mute like matter.

I sit enthroned in the azure like a misunderstood sphinx;
I unite a heart of snow with the whiteness of swans;
I hate the movement that displaces lines,
And I never cry and I never laugh.

Poets, before my grand attitudes,
Which I seem to borrow from the proudest monuments,
Will consume their days in austere studies;

For I have, to fascinate these docile lovers,
Pure mirrors that make all things more beautiful:
My eyes, my wide eyes with eternal clarity! » (Charles Baudelaire)

Robert Denos

Publié par DantéBéa le

“I have dreamed of you so much, walked, talked, slept with your ghost so much that perhaps all that remains for me, and yet, is to be a ghost among ghosts and a hundred times more shadow than the shadow that walks and will walk happily on the sundial of your life.” (Robert Denos)

Charles Cros

Publié par DantéBéa le

« I am a butterfly fleeing from crazy things,
And it is in a supreme kiss that I die. » (Charles Cros)

Edith Södergran

Publié par DantéBéa le

« Don’t get too close to your dreams:
They are smoke that can disperse
They are dangerous and can remain.
Have you looked your dreams in the eyes:
They are sick and understand nothing
They only have their own thoughts. Don’t get too close to your dreams:
They are lies, they should go away
They are madness for those who want to stay. » (Edith Södergran)

Publié par DantéBéa le

« Anchor is not thrown at the foot of the cradle, it rises, sails, feeds, explores as the ship following the murmur of its scent pushing it towards the perfume of its soul…The shore is found at the real birth. » (DantéBéa)

Sasha (Alexander Stewart)

Publié par DantéBéa le

Sasha (Alexander Stewart). The writer and actress Anita Loos 1931

George Sand

Publié par DantéBéa le

« The perfume of the soul is memory. It is the most delicate, the sweetest part of the heart, which detaches itself to embrace another heart and follow it everywhere. The affection of an absent one is nothing more than a perfume. But how sweet and sweet it is, how it brings to the dejected and sick spirit, beneficial images and dear hopes. Do not fear, O you who have left this fragrant trace on my path, never fear that I will let it be lost. I will hold it in my silent heart, like a subtle essence in a sealed bottle. No one will breathe it but me, and I will bring it to my lips in my days of distress, to draw from it consolation and strength, dreams of the past, oblivion of the present. »(George Sand)

Charles Baudelaire

Publié par DantéBéa le

« It sometimes seems to me that my blood flows in torrents,
Like a fountain with rhythmic sobs.
I hear it flowing with a long murmur,
But I feel in vain to find the wound.
Through the city, as through an enclosed field,
It goes, transforming the cobblestones into islands,
Quenching the thirst of every creature,
And everywhere coloring nature red.
I have often asked captious wines
To lull for a day the terror that undermines me;
Wine makes the eye clearer and the ear sharper!
I have sought in love a forgetful sleep;
But love is for me only a mattress of needles
Made to give drink to these cruel girls! » (Charles Baudelaire)

Anaïs Nin

Publié par DantéBéa le

« The enemy of love is never outside, it is not this man or that woman, it is what we lack inside. » (Anaïs Nin)

Publié par DantéBéa le

« Never look for me where you are not, look at who you are and you will find me » (DantéBéa)

André Kertész

Publié par DantéBéa le

André Kertész. The writer and actress Colette 1930

Robert Desnos

Publié par DantéBéa le

« O sorrows of love!
How dear and essential you are.
My eyes shut on imaginary tears,
hands forever reaching out to emptiness.
Last night I dreamed of insane landscapes and adventures
as dangerous from the point of view of death as from
that of life, which are also the point of view of love.
When I woke up you were there, sorrows of love, desert muses, demanding muses.
My laughter and my joy crystallize around you.
It’s your makeup, your powder, your rouge,
your snakeskin bag, your silk stockings…
and it’s also that little fold of skin between the ear and the nape,
where the neck begins,
it’s your silk slacks, your delicate blousev and your fur coat, your round belly, it’s my laughter and my joys
your feet and all your jewels.
How really well-dressed and good-looking you are.
O sorrows of love, demanding angels, there I go
picturing you as my love, confusing youv with her…
Sorrows of love that I create and dress,
you get confused with my love about whom I know only
her clothing and her eyes, her voice, her face, her hands,
her hair, her teeth, her eyes .. »(Robert Desnos)

Robert Desnos

Publié par DantéBéa le

The Last Poem

« I dreamed so much of you,
I walked so much, talked so much,
Loved your shadow so much,
That nothing of you remains for me.
All that remains is for me to be the shadow among shadows,
To be a hundred times more shadow than the shadow,
To be the shadow that will come and return
In your sunny life. » (Robert Desnos)

Man Ray

Publié par DantéBéa le

Man Ray. Nush and Paul Eluard 1936

Bible (Song of Songs)

Publié par DantéBéa le

« Your breast is a round cup, full of spiced wine; your body is a heap of wheat surrounded by lilies. Your two breasts are like the twins of a gazelle. Your neck is like an ivory tower; your eyes are the pools of Heshbon, set by the gate of the daughter of multitudes; your nose is straight and proud like the tower of Lebanon, which watches over the side of Damascus » (Bible, Song of Songs)

Paul Éluard

Publié par DantéBéa le

« She stands on my eyelids
And her hair is in mine
She has the shape of my hands
She has the color of my eyes
The lover

She sinks into my shadow
Like a stone against the sky
She always has her eyes open
And doesn’t let me sleep
The lover

Her dreams in broad daylight
Make the suns evaporate
Make me laugh, cry, and laugh
Speak without having anything to say
The lover. » (Paul Eluard)

Danté Béa

Publié par DantéBéa le

« We will remain hidden from these dolls disarticulated, their limbs fragmented, stranded, like nauseous wrecks, rejected by these virtual ports, our anchor will hold away… » (DantéBéa)

Barbara Ker-Seymer

Publié par DantéBéa le

Barbara Ker-Seymer. Jean Cocteau 1931

Barbara Ker-Seymer. Jean Cocteau 1931

Anaïs Nin

Publié par DantéBéa le

« I couldn’t live in any of the worlds they offered me: the world of my parents, the world of war, the world of politics. I had to create a world of my own, like a climate, a country, an atmosphere in which I could breathe, reign, and recreate myself after having been destroyed by life. This, I believe, is the reason for being of any work of art. » (Anaïs Nin)

Antonin Artaud

Publié par DantéBéa le

« For it is to her that I always return through the thread of this limitless love, this universally widespread love. And craters grow in my hands, mazes of breasts grow there, explosive loves grow there that my life wins over my sleep. » (Antonin Artaud)

Sophia Sherine Hutt

Publié par DantéBéa le

« Be a source. Light knows nothing of night, the sun knows no shadow, there are so many moons, many universes and their skies, realities play with illusion, keys know nothing of the lock » (Sophia Sherine Hutt)

Jean Genet

Publié par DantéBéa le

« Solitude, as I understand it, does not signify an unhappy state, but rather secret royalty, profound incommunicability yet a more or less obscure knowledge of an invulnerable singularity »(Jean Genet)

Albert Camus

Publié par DantéBéa le

« Don’t walk in front of me, I might not follow you… Don’t walk behind me, I might not lead you… Walk right beside me and be my friend. » (Albert Camus)

Pablo Neruda

Publié par DantéBéa le

« I want to do with you
what spring does with cherry trees. » (Pablo Neruda)

Emmy Hennings

Publié par DantéBéa le

The dancer and writer Emmy Hennings 1910-1913

Emmy Hennings

Publié par DantéBéa le

The dancer and writer Emmy Hennings with one of her dolls 1917

Emmy Hennings

Publié par DantéBéa le

The dancer and writer Emmy Hennings 1910-1911

Emmy Hennings

Publié par DantéBéa le

The dancer and writer Emmy Hennings 1913

Emmy Hennings

Publié par DantéBéa le

The dancer and writer Emmy Hennings 1910-1913

Hanns Holdt

Publié par DantéBéa le

Hanns Holdt. The dancer and writer Emmy Hennings 1922

Emmy Hennings

Publié par DantéBéa le

The dancer and writer Emmy Hennings 1912-1913

Emmy Hennings

Publié par DantéBéa le

The dancer and writer Emmy Hennings 1917-1918

Emmy Hennings

Publié par DantéBéa le

The dancer and writer Emmy Hennings 1930

Emmy Hennings

Publié par DantéBéa le

The dancer and writer Emmy Hennings 1912-1913

Hanns Holdt

Publié par DantéBéa le

Hanns Holdt. The dancer and writer Emmy Hennings 1920-1922

Hanns Holdt

Publié par DantéBéa le

Hanns Holdt. The dancer and writer Emmy Hennings 1921-1922

Emmy Hennings

Publié par DantéBéa le

The dancer and writer Emmy Hennings 1930

The dancer and writer Emmy Hennings 1930

Emmy Hennings

Publié par DantéBéa le

The dancer and writer Emmy Hennings nd

Emmy Hennings

Publié par DantéBéa le

The dancer and writer Emmy Hennings 1921-1922

Jean Cocteau

Publié par DantéBéa le

“Time is elastic. With a little skill, you can appear to be always in one place and always be in another.” (Jean Cocteau)

Jean Cocteau

Publié par DantéBéa le

From The blood of a poet directed by Jean Cocteau in 1932

“The Blood of a Poet”1932
“Poets . . . shed not only the red blood of their hearts but the white blood of their souls,” proclaimed Jean Cocteau of his groundbreaking first film—an exploration of the plight of the artist, the power of metaphor and the relationship between art and dreams. One of cinema’s great experiments, this first installment of the Orphic Trilogy stretches the medium to its limits in an effort to capture the poet’s obsession with the struggle between the forces of life and death.

Francis Goodman

Publié par DantéBéa le

Francis Goodman. The writer Barbara Bentley holding a mask 1932

Léopold Reutlinger

Publié par DantéBéa le

Atelier Reutlinger. The actress and writer Colette 1909

Léopold Reutlinger

Publié par DantéBéa le

Léopold Reutlinger. The actress and writer Colette posing as a sphinx 1910

Léopold Reutlinger

Publié par DantéBéa le

Atelier Reutlinger. The actress and writer Colette lying on a lion skin 1907

Léopold Reutlinger

Publié par DantéBéa le

Atelier Reutlinger. The actress and writer Colette lying on a lion skin 1907

Colette

Publié par DantéBéa le

The actress and writer Colette miming the Petit Faune in Le Desir, La Chimere et l’Amour 1906

Léopold Reutlinger

Publié par DantéBéa le

Atelier Reutlinger. The actress and writer Colette in The dream of Egypt 1907

Léopold Reutlinger

Publié par DantéBéa le

Atelier Reutlinger. The actress and writer Colette  1907

Léopold Reutlinger

Publié par DantéBéa le

Atelier Reutlinger. The actress and writer Colette in The dream of Egypt 1907

Léopold Reutlinger

Publié par DantéBéa le

Atelier Reutlinger. The actress and writer Colette in The dream of Egypt 1907

Léopold Reutlinger

Publié par DantéBéa le

Léopold Reutlinger. The actress and writer Colette 1907-1910

Léopold Reutlinger. The actress and writer Colette 1907-1910

Léopold Reutlinger. The actress and writer Colette 1907-1910

Edward Steichen

Publié par DantéBéa le

Edward Steichen. The actress and writer Colette 1935 for Vanity Fair

Egon Schiele

Publié par DantéBéa le

« Everything is living dead » (Egon Schiele)

Charles Bukowski

Publié par DantéBéa le

« Every day she was a different woman.
Sometimes enterprising, sometimes clumsy.
Sometimes exuberant, sometimes shy.
Unsure of herself and determined.
Sweet and arrogant.
She was a thousand women,
but her scent was always the same.
Undoubtedly.
That was my only certainty.
She smiled at me
she knew she could fool me
with that smile.
When she smiled,
I didn’t understand anything anymore,
I couldn’t speak or think.
Nothing, nothing at all.
There was only her all of a sudden.
She was crazy, really crazy.
Sometimes she cried.
They say that in these cases,
women just want a hug,
She, no.
She was getting nervous.
I don’t know where she is right now,
but,
I bet she’s still looking
for dreams.
She was crazy, really crazy.
But I loved her so much. » (Charles Bukowski)

Colette

Publié par DantéBéa le

« A tomb is nothing but an empty chest. The one I love is contained entirely in my memory, in a still-scented handkerchief that I unfold, in an intonation that I suddenly remember and that I listen to for a long moment, my head bowed… He is in a short tender note whose writing will fade, in a worn book that his eyes flattered, and his form is seated forever, for me, – but for me alone – on this bench from where he watched, pensive, the Montagne aux Cailles turn blue in the twilight. » (Colette)

Jane de La Vaudère

Publié par DantéBéa le

« Words have their color and kisses too
Some, with the pale tone of roses with their petals stripped,
Fly away sadly towards the blurred peaks
Where the regret of the frozen memory cries.

Others, last flowers, on the hardened path,
With petals of frost, with corollas dug up
In tears of crystal, are to rusty souls
Of an immaculate white under the darkened sky.

Some have the discreet tone of violets;
Others, almost erased, soft and frail skeletons,
Seem to me a swarm of large gray butterflies.

The black kiss of evil bites like a gouge,
But the king of kisses with which my being is enamored
Is your kiss of blood, your ardent red kiss! » (Jane de La Vaudère)

Photos illustrations for the book of Jane de La Vaudère Le Rêve de Mysès

Publié par DantéBéa le

Unknown photographer. Photo illustration for the book of Jane de La Vaudère Le Rêve de Mysès 1910 (Love novel of moods canticles illustrated by photography from nature)

Unknown photographer. Photo illustration for the book of Jane de La Vaudère Le Rêve de Mysès 1910 (Love novel of moods canticles illustrated by photography from nature)

Unknown photographer. Photo illustration for the book of Jane de La Vaudère Le Rêve de Mysès 1910 (Love novel of moods canticles illustrated by photography from nature)

Jean Angelou. Photo illustration for the book of Jane de La Vaudère Le Rêve de Mysès 1910 (Love novel of moods canticles illustrated by photography from nature)

Unknown photographer. Photo illustration for the book of Jane de La Vaudère Le Rêve de Mysès 1910 (Love novel of moods canticles illustrated by photography from nature)

Unknown photographer. Photo illustration for the book of Jane de La Vaudère Le Rêve de Mysès 1910 (Love novel of moods canticles illustrated by photography from nature)

Jean Angelou. Photo illustration for the book of Jane de La Vaudère Le Rêve de Mysès 1910 (Love novel of moods canticles illustrated by photography from nature)

Unknown photographer. Photo illustration for the book of Jane de La Vaudère Le Rêve de Mysès 1910 (Love novel of moods canticles illustrated by photography from nature)

Jean Angelou. Photo illustration for the book of Jane de La Vaudère Le Rêve de Mysès 1910 (Love novel of moods canticles illustrated by photography from nature)

Unknown photographer. Photo illustration for the book of Jane de La Vaudère Le Rêve de Mysès 1910 (Love novel of moods canticles illustrated by photography from nature)

Unknown photographer. Photo illustration for the book of Jane de La Vaudère Le Rêve de Mysès 1910 (Love novel of moods canticles illustrated by photography from nature)

Jean Angelou. Photo illustration for the book of Jane de La Vaudère Le Rêve de Mysès 1910 (Love novel of moods canticles illustrated by photography from nature)

Unknown photographer. Photo illustration for the book of Jane de La Vaudère Le Rêve de Mysès 1910 (Love novel of moods canticles illustrated by photography from nature)

Jean Angelou. Photo illustration for the book of Jane de La Vaudère Le Rêve de Mysès 1910 (Love novel of moods canticles illustrated by photography from nature)

Unknown photographer. Photo illustration for the book of Jane de La Vaudère Le Rêve de Mysès 1910 (Love novel of moods canticles illustrated by photography from nature)

Unknown photographer. Photo illustration for the book of Jane de La Vaudère Le Rêve de Mysès 1910 (Love novel of moods canticles illustrated by photography from nature)

Jean Angelou. Photo illustration for the book of Jane de La Vaudère Le Rêve de Mysès 1910 (Love novel of moods canticles illustrated by photography from nature)

Jean Angelou. Photo illustration for the book of Jane de La Vaudère Le Rêve de Mysès 1910 (Love novel of moods canticles illustrated by photography from nature)

Unknown photographer. Photo illustration for the book of Jane de La Vaudère Le Rêve de Mysès 1910 (Love novel of moods canticles illustrated by photography from nature)

Jean Angelou. Photo illustration for the book of Jane de La Vaudère Le Rêve de Mysès 1910 (Love novel of moods canticles illustrated by photography from nature)

Unknown photographer. Photo illustration for the book of Jane de La Vaudère Le Rêve de Mysès 1910 (Love novel of moods canticles illustrated by photography from nature)

Unknown photographer. Photo illustration for the book of Jane de La Vaudère Le Rêve de Mysès 1910 (Love novel of moods canticles illustrated by photography from nature)

Unknown photographer

Publié par DantéBéa le

Unknown photographer. Photo illustration for the book of Jane de La Vaudère Le Rêve de Mysès 1910 (Love novel of moods canticles illustrated by photography from nature)

Unknown photographer. Photo illustration for the book of Jane de La Vaudère Le Rêve de Mysès 1910 (Love novel of moods canticles illustrated by photography from nature)

Tristan and Iseut

Publié par DantéBéa le

« You speak the truth, Tristan. I feel like you that the spell has just ended. Our love remains, as you say, stronger than ever, but it has ceased to be a magical constraint, a force external to us, invincible and fatal. We are going to love each other now like other men and women since the world began; here we are brought back to the common condition of all mortals. We will henceforth be subject to the whims of chance, to the fluctuations of our desires, to all contrary movements, to all the repentances of our own wills. From there it comes that at this hour, without ceasing to love each other, we are at the point of conceiving the project of separating. » (Tristan and Iseut)

Marceline Desbordes-Valmore

Publié par DantéBéa le

« I wanted to bring you roses this morning;
But I had taken so many in my closed belts
That the knots were too tight and could not contain them.
The knots burst. The roses flew away
In the wind, to the sea, they all went away.
They followed the water never to return;
The wave seemed red and as if inflamed.
This evening, my dress is still all perfumed with them…
Breathe on me the fragrant memory of them… » (Marceline Desbordes-Valmore)

Daniel Varoujan

Publié par DantéBéa le

« I love your sadness, which is also mine –
The pain of my pains, above all evils; I love your broken breast, where nevertheless your love
Sings again and again – a lark intoxicated with love. » (Daniel Varoujan)

Anna de Noailles

Publié par DantéBéa le

« The beauty of the lover is only in the heart of the mistress. »
So it is I who give you an excessive welcome!
— Then, why this rare and precise slavery?
But my evil is sacred since fate wills it!
And it is my mad need as well as my wise need
To prefer to the world a single one of your hairs! » (Anna de Noailles)

Louis Aragon

Publié par DantéBéa le

« Give me your hands for worry
Give me your hands that I have dreamed of so much
That I have dreamed of so much in my solitude
Give me your hands that I may be saved

When I take them in my own trap
Of palm and fear of haste and emotion
When I take them like snow water
That leaks from everywhere in my hands

Will you ever know what goes through me
That upsets me and invades me
Will you ever know what pierces me
What I betrayed when I shuddered

What the deep language says thus
This mute speech of animal senses
Without mouth and without eyes mirror without image
This shudder of love that has no words

Will you ever know what the fingers think
Of a prey held between them for a moment
Will you ever know what their silence
A flash will have known of the unknown

Give me your hands that my heart forms there
The world is silent there at least for a moment
Give me your hands that my soul sleeps there
May my soul sleep there eternally. » (Louis Aragon)

Émile-Auguste Chartier (known as Alain)

Publié par DantéBéa le

“Any power without control drives you crazy.” (Émile-Auguste Chartier known as Alain)

Colette

Publié par DantéBéa le

The writer Colette (Sidonie-Gabrielle Colette) in 1901

Virginia Woolf

Publié par DantéBéa le

« The eyes of others are our prisons; their thoughts are our cages. » (Virginia Woolf)

André Laude

Publié par DantéBéa le

« In my house
the evening meal has not been served
Anyway
in my house
there is no table
there is no cutlery
no salt and pepper
no faithful wife
Anyway
There is no house
My house is a dream
a cardboard dream
torn at every moment
by the pack of winds
those who come from Russia
and those who come from the Horn.
In my house
tonight I will not sleep.
I will sleep on the wing
of a large seagull
that flies slowly
above the roaring forties.
I will sleep
On the back of a blue whale
Like a little child
in the grip of the fever of legends
In my house
The caress of midnight
Will be a cruel absence
A tear of blood
On an imaginary pillow.
Forgive yes forgive the poet
If he repeats himself
Anyway
There is no home
I will sleep in the night of the world
without ever closing my eyes
listening to the ringing of fears, hours, minutes, seconds. » (André Laude)

Barbara Ker-Seymer

Publié par DantéBéa le

Barbara Ker-Seymer. Nancy Cunard 1929

Barbara Ker-Seymer. Nancy Cunard 1929

Barbara Ker-Seymer. Nancy Cunard 1929

Barbara Ker-Seymer. Nancy Cunard 1929

Barbara Ker-Seymer. Nancy Cunard 1929

Jean d’Ormesson

Publié par DantéBéa le

« I love you in time. I will love you until the end of time. And when time is over, then I will have loved you. And nothing of this love, like nothing that has been, can ever be erased. » (Jean d’Ormesson)

Alphonse de Lamartine

Publié par DantéBéa le

« One day, jealous time, with icy breath,
Will fade your colors like a faded flower
On these beds of grass;
And its hand will wither on your charming lips
Those quick kisses, alas! from which you wean me
In their fresh season.
But when your eyes, veiled by a cloud of tears,
Of those days gone by that have robbed you of your charms
Will weep the harshness;
When in your memory, in the wave of the shore
You will seek in vain your ravishing image,
Look into my heart!
There your beauty blooms for countless centuries;
There your sweet memory watches forever over the shadow
Of my fidelity,
Like a golden lamp that a holy virgin
Protects with her hand, crossing the enclosure,
The trembling light.
And when death comes, followed by another love,
Smilingly extinguish our double life
Both torch,
May she spread my bed next to yours,
And may your faithful hand still embrace mine
In the bed of the tomb.
Or rather may we pass over this earth,
As one sees in autumn a solitary couple
Of swans in love
Leaving, embracing, from the nest that brings them together,
And towards the sweet climates that they will seek together
Flying away two by two. » (Alphonse de Lamartine)

Jacques Prévert

Publié par DantéBéa le

« Denial of God denial of the devil
incapable of being guilty
you are beautiful
undeniable
You are beautiful like the sea and the earth
before human proliferation
And yet you are a woman
You are beautiful like the wind that cannot be seen
beautiful like the morning and the evening
You are beautiful and you are not the only one
You are beautiful among the beauties but in the swarm of beauties you are not the star
You are one of them
mine
and yet you do not belong to me
But you are the only desert island where I could live with you. »
(Jacques Prévert)

Guillaume Apollinaire

Publié par DantéBéa le

« In the very deep lake of your eyes
My poor heart drowns and melts
There it undoes
In the water of love and madness
Memory and Melancholy »
(Guillaume Apollinaire, Poems to Lou 1914)

Antonin Artaud

Publié par DantéBéa le

« When will we meet again?
When will the earthy taste of your lips once again brush against the anxiety of my mind?
The earth is like a whirlwind of mortal lips.
Life digs before us the abyss of all the caresses that have been lacking. What do we have to do with this angel who has not been able to show himself? Will all our sensations be forever intellectual, and will our dreams not manage to catch fire on a soul whose emotion will help us die. What is this death where we are forever alone, where love does not show us the way? » (Antonin Artaud
Art and Death, 1929)

Guy de Maupassant

Publié par DantéBéa le

Are you in love?

  • « No, she troubles me, seduces me and worries me, attracts me and frightens me.
    I am wary of her like a trap, and I want her like a sorbet when you are thirsty. I am subject to her charm. I feel in contact with an abnormal being, outside the natural rules, exquisite or detestable, I do not know.
  • I tell you that you are in love.
  • It is possible after all. She worries me a lot.. I think about her too much, I think about her when I fall asleep and also when I wake up, it is quite serious.
  • Her image follows me, pursues me constantly always in front. » (Guy de Maupassant)

Saint John of the Cross

Publié par DantéBéa le

.
« In that happy night,
I stood in secret, no one saw me,
and I saw nothing to guide me,
except the light that burned in my heart. » (Saint John of the Cross)

Julio Cortazar

Publié par DantéBéa le

« You see
I keep thinking about you
and I don’t write to you
suddenly I look at the sky
that passing cloud
and maybe you in your waterfront
you will look at a cloud
and that is my letter
something flowing indecipherable. »(Julio Cortazar)

DantéBéa

Publié par DantéBéa le

« I can share the integrity of my soul, but never ask me to be your compromise doll. I have too much radical passion inside me. » (DantéBéa)

Ernest Legouvé

Publié par DantéBéa le

« Love is like the year, its most beautiful season is its spring.
All is still promises and flowers. » (Ernest Legouvé)

Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

Publié par DantéBéa le

« And I know of a rose that is unique in the world, which exists nowhere else except on my planet. »(Antoine de Saint-Exupéry)

Albert Camus

Publié par DantéBéa le

« My dear, In the midst of hate, I found there was, within me, an invincible love. In the midst of tears, I found there was, within me, an invincible smile. In the midst of chaos, I found there was, within me, an invincible calm. I realized, through it all, that…In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer. And that makes me happy. For it says that no matter how hard the world pushes against me, within me, there’s something stronger – something better, pushing right back. »(Albert Camus)

Alain Duault

Publié par DantéBéa le

« It may not be too late we must still try
To live pushes aside the threads of the rain the wild wind
Comes like a horse that gets up what a beauty
You have probably crumpled the river but everything flows
Since the black waters of childhood

Your sorrow
Your rage you must throw everything in the sewers and bathe
Naked in the leaves of the sky wrapped in clouds
You must fly like an angel laugh sing and laugh
Pass through all the rooms write a poem
That you will read on all the roads in all the beds
A poem that gives a thousand lives Don’t give up
Hope

An abandonment is a tree that dies. « (Alain Duault)

François de La Rochefoucauld

Publié par DantéBéa le

« The grace of novelty is to love what the flower is to fruit: it gives it a luster that fades easily and never returns. » (François de La Rochefoucauld)

Paul Verlaine

Publié par DantéBéa le

« I often have this strange and penetrating dream
Of an unknown woman, whom I love, and who loves me
And who is, each time, neither quite the same
Nor quite another, and loves me and understands me. » (Paul Verlaine)

Jules Barbey d’Aurevilly

Publié par DantéBéa le

“The supreme seduction is not to express one’s feelings. It is to make one suspect them.” (Jules Barbey d’Aurevilly)

Salvador Dali

Publié par DantéBéa le

“The bloody osmoses of dream and love occupy the entire life of man.” (Salvador Dali)

Jules Barbey d’Aurevilly

Publié par DantéBéa le

« This melancholy that women have who have sought happiness and found only love. » (Jules Barbey d’Aurevilly)

Arthur Rimbaud

Publié par DantéBéa le

« I was going away, my fists in my burst pockets;
My overcoat also became ideal;
I was going under the sky, Muse! and I was your faithful;
Oh! there! there! what splendid loves I have dreamed!

My only breeches had a large hole.

  • Little Tom Thumb dreamer, I was counting rhymes in my race. My inn was at the Grande-Ourse.
  • My stars in the sky had a soft rustle

And I listened to them, sitting at the edge of the roads,
Those good September evenings when I felt drops
Of dew on my forehead, like a wine of vigor;

Where, rhyming in the middle of fantastic shadows,
Like lyres, I pulled the elastics
Of my wounded shoes, one foot near my heart! » (Arthur Rimbaud)

René-François Sully Prudhomme

Publié par DantéBéa le

« The dream, a treacherous snake hatched in the down,
Rolls a flattering fetter around my arms,
On my lips distills a philter in its drool,
And amuses me with the changing colors it takes on.

Since it emerged from under my bedside,
My blood slides frozen like warm lava,
Its knots make me captive and its looks a slave,
And I live as if some other person in me lived.

But soon I knew the pain of its caress;
In vain I writhe under its weight that oppresses me,
I fall back and cannot free myself from it.

Its tooth seeks my heart, turns it over and gnaws at it;
And, all entangled in shreds of dream,
I die. — Oh heavy monster! who are you?  » (René-François Sully Prudhomme, L’ennui)

Charles Bukowski

Publié par DantéBéa le

“It is only once in a while that you see someone whose electricity and presence matches yours at that moment.” (Charles Bukowski)

Publié par DantéBéa le

« I am anchored in the roots of your lands, in each of your births. » (DantéBéa)

Charles Baudelaire

Publié par DantéBéa le

« …Deep, magical charm, which intoxicates us
In the present the past restored!
Thus the lover on an adored body
From memory gathers the exquisite flower… » (Charles Baudelaire, The perfume)

Paul Eluard

Publié par DantéBéa le

« The curve of your eyes circles my heart,
A circle of dance and sweetness,
A halo of time, a safe and nocturnal cradle,
And if I no longer know all that I have lived
It is because your eyes have not always seen me.

Leaves of day and foam of dew,
Reeds of the wind, perfumed smiles,
Wings covering the world with light,
Boats laden with sky and sea,
Hunters of noises and sources of colors,

Perfumes hatched from a brood of dawns
Which always lies on the straw of the stars,
As the day depends on innocence
The whole world depends on your pure eyes
And all my blood flows in their gazes. » (Paul Eluard, Capitale de la douleur, 1926)

Pablo Neruda

Publié par DantéBéa le

« It was thirst, hunger, and you were the fruit.
It was mourning, ruins, and you were the miracle.
Woman, woman, how could you lock me up
in the cross of your arms, the earth of your soul. » (Pablo Neruda)

Rainer Maria Rilke

Publié par DantéBéa le

« Alone, oh abundant flower,
you create your own space;
you reflect yourself in a mirror
of scent.

Your perfume surrounds like other petals
your innumerable chalice.
I hold you back, you spread out,
prodigious actress. » (Rainer Maria Rilke, The Roses)

Albert Camus

Publié par DantéBéa le

« We must have one love, one great love in our life, since it gives us an alibi for all the moments when we are filled with despair.” (Albert Camus)