210
PARTISAN REVIEW
(Non-existent). That's because he has strayed;
Not slender enough nor ample enough:
Too many wrenched muscles, too much spittle.
He'll find calm when he sees the Temple of
His form assure his own eternity.
RAYMOND QuENEAU
DA- SEIN
The boat rides in the cove like a face
It
is there it shines with valor like sweet fire
Around it evening shuts off the distances
with formidable laughter of mountains
It's at high heat behind the bulwarks
glossy and trembling against waves and moon
mahogany turned inward to where dreams are
abrasive laughs-they'll not wear it away
Inexorable wall black boulders
clouds have piled up all the breasts of the night
the tranquil wind in avalanches of rocks
It is there ...
At home Nature never stops she's drunk
Applauds herself hurling on her wheel the giantess Nature
I'm not mistaken ... this little boat
without fear into the night its anguished smile.
HATEFULLY MY LOVE POETRY
Like a snake that reascends streams
like a sword that dies and is born again in silence
like a great woman that simmers
like a couple of beans rolling on the scraped earth
like the fiery nimbleness of a salamander on a sinking wall
mere fire she crosses the pale void glittering
like time worn away by the night
obscure as a glow-worm
many-branched as a star long extinguished
which suddenly lights up again
hatefully my love poetry.
ANDRE FRENAUD
