You pretend not to notice I am watching you
Marvellously I am no longer sure you know
Your idleness fills my eyes with tears
A swarm of interpretations surrounds
each one of your gestures
It is the hunt for honey dew
There are rocking-chairs on a deck
there are branches that could scratch you
in the forest there are
In a shop-window in the rue
Notre-Dame-de-Lorette
Two beautiful crossed legs in long stockings
That flare out in the centre of a great
white clover
There is a silken ladder unrolled in the ivy
There is
Only the need for me to lean over the precipice
Of the hopeless fusion of your presence
and your absence
I have found the secret
Of loving you
Always for the very first time
.
( Andre Breton )
.
( French )