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 )