L'Ange Heurtebise / The Angel Heurtebise
2001; University of Chicago Press; Volume: 47/48; Linguagem: Inglês
10.2307/25304815
ISSN2327-5804
AutoresJean Cocteau, Kristin Prevallet,
Tópico(s)French Literature and Poetry
ResumoI The angel Heurtebise, on the stairs Silken in his wings Singes me, refreshes my memory The fool, alone, inept Here with me, in chalcedony That is shattered, idiot, by your Supernatural symmetry. II The angel Heurtebise, incredibly Brutal, sacked me. For grace, Don't spring so high Bestial Boy, flower of great Stature. I'm in the sack. That's the way it is. I've had it; take note. Have you? III The angel Heurtebise knocks me down And you, King Jesus, mercy Raise me, draw me to the angle Right of your pointy knees Pleasure without variety. Fast! Unknot The chord, I'm dying. IV The angel Heurtebise and the angel Cegeste killed in the war-such an extraordinary name-playing the part Of scarecrows Whose gesture No! scares Beneath the portals of the church The cherries of the celestial cherry tree Accustomed to the jester, Yes. V Angel Heurtebise, my guardian angel I guard you, I hurt you I shatter you, I change you Be careful, the hour. On guard, Spring! I challenge you If you are a man. Admit my cerated angel, your beauty. Pose for a photograph by a Chemical explosion. VI Angel Heurtebise, in robes of water My loved angel, grace Has hurt me badly. I am bad To God, He impales me. In me the demon is a imp, animal Once melodious. Arrive Depart from agate Pale smoke, oh life that kills. Beneath your blades diamonds scratch The mirror of maladies. The walls The walls Have ears And the mirrors Are eyes of a lover. VII Angel Heurtebise, abound, marrow Of elderberry airplanes and alabaster linen. It is time. We must descend Again with my help, head First, cross the glass Without lowering your eyes, the void, the isle Where the hearth sings. Leave your sword, Come to me slowly, crazy star. And if I do not have your body? Ah! If only we had your hips Draped with stone, evil Beast of our God. VIII The angel Heurtebise has come With the feet of an animal, blue as the sky. I am alone All naked without Eve, without mustaches Without maps. Solomon's bees fly away, yet I can't eat my honey My bitter thyme, my Andes honey. Below, the sea this morning writes The verb to love one hundred times. On the grass, cotton angels The indecent, the filthy ones, Milk the udders Of huge geographical cows. IX Angel Heurtebise, I triumph The color, the number 13, Stroke your white silk Against the nap Inflate your wings In a brand new way. Never mind about a lesson; I'll learn by guessing, the affluence Of the bird, the name Of every branch on every tree, the bush Of the month of May. Bird man, you lost your maize, tamed Too many statues. Birds are our friends... Marble is very influential. X Angel Heurtebise, recite the Hail Mary. One foot upon the imp, the other on The aisle, it's the juggler with Plume and cannon ball. I have had faults, I admit them: ruin the runes We are on plumes. Angel Heurtebise, the earth Half-sun, half-shadow is like A panther in the jungle. NO? Okay, but I am sure of it and I ordain You to shut-up. You have blood in your beak, my young friend. …
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