Ephemera

"Madness: An Attempt to Simulate General Paralysis"
Andre Breton and Paul Eluard

My great big adorable girl, beautiful as everything upon earth and in the most beautiful stars of the earth I adore, my great big girl adored by all the powers of the stars, lovely with the beauty of the billions of queens that adorn the earth, my adoration for your beauty brings me to my knees to beg you to think of me, I throw myself at your knees, I adore your beauty, think of me my adorable beauty, my great beauty whom I adore, I roll diamonds in the moss higher than the forests your highest hair thinks of me — don't forget me, my little girl, on my knees now, beside the fire, on the emerald sand — look at yourself in my hand which serves me as a mirror of everything in the world for you to recognize me for what I am, my blonde-brunette, my beauty and my beast, think of me in paradise, my head in my hands.

I didn't have enough of the hundred and fifty chateaux where we went to make love, tomorrow I will have a hundred thousand others constructed, I have hunted peacocks, panthers, and lyre-birds in the baobab forests of your eyes, I will imprison them in my strongholds and we shall walk together in the forests of Asia, of Europe, of America which surround our chateaux in the admirable forests of your eyes which are accustomed to my splendor.

You have only to await the surprise I want to give you for your birthday which happens to be today, the same day as mine — I am giving it to you right away because fifteen times ovre I've waited for the year one thousand before giving you the surprise of asking you to think of me, of hide-and-seek — I want you to think of me, my eternal girl, laughing. I have counted, before going to sleep, clouds and clouds of tanks full of beets for the sun, and I want to take you at night to the astrakhan beach that they are building with two horizons for your wartime petroleum eyes, I'll take you there down roads of diamonds paved with primroses, emeralds, and the ermine cloak I want to dress you in is a bird of prey, the diamonds that your feet will trample I have had cut in the shape of butterflies. Think of me, thinking only of your luster, in which slumbers the sun-drenched luxury of an earth and of all the stars I have conquered for you, I adore you and I adore your eyes and I have opened your eyes, open to all those they have seen and I shall give to all the beings your eyes have seen clothes of gold and crystal, clothes they must fling down when your eyes will have tarnished them with their scorn. I am bleeding in my heart from the mere initials of your name which are all the letters, and of which Z is the first in the infinite of alphabets and civilizations in which I shall still love you since you want to be my wife and think of me in the countries where there is no longer any average. My heart bleeds upon your mouth and closes over your mouth, over all the pink chestnut trees of the avenue of your mouth where we are going, in the brilliant dust, to lie down among the meteors of your beauty which I adore, my great big lovely creature, so lovely that I am happy to deck your treasures in your presence, your thought and your name which multiplies the facets of the ecstasy of my treasures, of your name I adore because it finds an echo in all the mirrors of beauty of my splendor, my original wife, my rosewood scaffolding, you are my sin of my sin of my great sin as Jesus Christ is the wife of my cross -- twelve times twelve thousand one hundred and forty-nine times I have loved you with passion on the way and I am crucified in the north, the east, the west, and the north for your radium kiss, and I want you and you are in my mirror of pearls the breath of the man who will not bring you back up to the surface and who loves you in adoration my wife ying down standing when you are sitting and combing your hair.

You will come, you are thinking of me, you will come, you will run to me on your thirteen full legs and on all your empty legs which beat the air with the swaying of your arms, a multitude of arms that will seek to entwine themselves around me kneeling between your legs and your arms to embrace you without fear that my locomotives will keep you from coming to me, and I am yours and I am before you to stop you, to give you all the stars of the sky in a kiss on your eyes all the world's kisses in a star on your mouth. Yours in a torch.

P.S. I'd like a directory for the mass, a directory with a knotted cord to mark the pages. You can also bring me a Franco-German flag that I will set up in the empty lot. And a pound of the Menier chocolate with the little girl who pastes up the posters (I don't remember any more). And then also nine of those little girls with their lawyers and their judges, and you are coming in the express train with the speed of light and the Wild West outlaws who will distract me a moment which explodes here unfortunately like champagne corks. And a skate. My left garter has just broken, I was lifting the world like a feather. Can you do me a favor? Buy a tank, I want to see you coming like the fairies.

L'Immaculee Conception
1930

 Copyright 2001 Debi Orton

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