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Poulenc - Montparnasse


Poulenc (1945)

O porte de l'hôtel avec deux plantes vertes
Vertes qui jamais
Ne porteront de fleurs
Où sont mes fruits Où me planté-je?
O porte de l'hôtel un ange est devant toi
Distribuant des prospectus
On n'a jamais si bien défendu la vertu
Donnez-moi pour toujours une chambre à la semaine
Ange barbu vous êtes en réalité
Un poète lyrique d'Allemagne
Qui voulez connaître Paris
Vous connaissez de son pavé
Ces raies sur lesquelles il ne faut pas que l'on marche
Et vous rêvez
D'allez psser votre Dimanche à Garches

Il fait un peu lourd et vos cheveux sont longs
O bon petit poète un peu bête et trop blond
Vos yeux ressemblent tant à ces deux grands ballons
Qui s'en vont dans l'air pur
A l'aventure

Guillaume Apollinaire



O door of the hotel with two green plants
green which will never
bear flowers
where are my fruits Where do I plant myself?
O door of the hotel an angel stands before you
handing out leaflets
virtue has never been so well defended
give me for ever a room by the week
bearded angel in reality you are
a lyric poet from Germany
who wishes to know Paris
You know these lines between her pavements
upon which one must not tread
and you dream
of going to spend your Sunday in Garches

it is a little sticky and your hair is long
o good little poet a bit stupid and too blond
your eyes look so much like those two big balloons
which drift away in the pure air
at random

© translated by Christopher Goldsack

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