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
A woman is more beautiful than the world in which I live; and so I close my eyes. - Paul Eluard
A woman is more beautiful than the world in which I live; and so I close my eyes.
- Paul Eluard
The curve of your eyes goes around my heart, A round of dance and sweetness, Halo of time, nocturnal and safe cradle, And if I don't know any more al… - Paul Eluard
The curve of your eyes goes around my heart, A round of dance and sweetness, Halo of time, nocturnal and safe cradle, And if I don't know any more al…
The poet is he who inspires, rather than he who is inspired. - Paul Eluard
The poet is he who inspires, rather than he who is inspired.
The earth is blue like an orange. - Paul Eluard
The earth is blue like an orange.
We want to be, when we are young, A little man. I would like to be a big child, Stronger and fairer than a man, And more lucid than a child. - Paul Eluard
We want to be, when we are young, A little man. I would like to be a big child, Stronger and fairer than a man, And more lucid than a child.
You cannot be known Better than I know you. - Paul Eluard
You cannot be known Better than I know you.
I cannot be known Better than you know me Your eyes in which we sleep We together Have made for my man’s gleam A better fate than for the common nigh… - Paul Eluard
I cannot be known Better than you know me Your eyes in which we sleep We together Have made for my man’s gleam A better fate than for the common nigh…
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… - Paul Eluard
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…
The language of my love does not belong to human language, my human body does not touch the flesh of my love. - Paul Eluard
The language of my love does not belong to human language, my human body does not touch the flesh of my love.
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