Paul Eluard

A woman is more beautiful than the world in which I live; and so I close my eyes.

The language of my love does not belong to human language, my human body does not touch the flesh of my love.

Your eyes in which I travel Have given to signs along the roads A meaning alien to the earth.

She is standing on my lids And her hair is in my hair She has the colour of my eye She has the body of my hand In my shade she is engulfed As a stone against the sky She will never close her eyes And she does not let me sleep And her dreams in the bright day Make the suns evaporate And me laugh cry and laugh Speak when I have nothing to say