#OTD in 1920, Paul Valery published Le Cimetiere marin (The Graveyard by the Sea) in Nouvelle Revue Française. According to Gabriel Josipovici, it is 'full of brilliant lines and passages':
Poet Paul Valéry published "Le Cimetiere marin" in the periodical Nouvelle Revue Française on this day in 1920.
"The Graveyard by the Sea" (1920) by Paul Valéry
“Seek not, my soul, the life of the immortals;
but enjoy to the full the resources that are
within thy reach”
but enjoy to the full the resources that are
within thy reach”
(Pindar, Pythics III)
*
1
This tranquil roof pulsates above the pines
with doves’ sails fluttering beyond the shrines;
while the indifferent noon forges the sea from fire:
the sea will always recommence
or recompense after a thought and take us thence
to the long calm gaze to which the gods aspire.
This tranquil roof pulsates above the pines
with doves’ sails fluttering beyond the shrines;
while the indifferent noon forges the sea from fire:
the sea will always recommence
or recompense after a thought and take us thence
to the long calm gaze to which the gods aspire.
2
What pure and fine-spun lightning can consume
so many diamonds in the ephemeral spume,
and what apparent peace it can bestow!
When, over deeps and deeps, a sun can pause
in the pure work of its eternal cause,
time flickers and the craving is to know.
What pure and fine-spun lightning can consume
so many diamonds in the ephemeral spume,
and what apparent peace it can bestow!
When, over deeps and deeps, a sun can pause
in the pure work of its eternal cause,
time flickers and the craving is to know.
3
Shrine to Minerva, treasure, simple sure,
expanse of calmness, visible, secure,
rippling water. Eye that itself can hold
so much of sleep beneath a veil of flame
O silence mine! …Built in the spirit’s frame,
but packed with ore, a million tiles of gold.
Shrine to Minerva, treasure, simple sure,
expanse of calmness, visible, secure,
rippling water. Eye that itself can hold
so much of sleep beneath a veil of flame
O silence mine! …Built in the spirit’s frame,
but packed with ore, a million tiles of gold.
4
I from Time’s temple of a single sigh, resume
my climb to this pure point and to myself attune
all the surrounding vistas of the sea;
and to the gods my offering outright
sows peaceful scintillation on the height
where sovereignty allows disdain to be.
I from Time’s temple of a single sigh, resume
my climb to this pure point and to myself attune
all the surrounding vistas of the sea;
and to the gods my offering outright
sows peaceful scintillation on the height
where sovereignty allows disdain to be.
5
As fruit, on tasting, melts into delight,
dissolving into absence as we bite,
whilst on the lips its very form is dying,
I smell my future here among the smoke
as ashen skies sing to the soul half-choked
by changes in the murmuring banks’ quiet crying.
As fruit, on tasting, melts into delight,
dissolving into absence as we bite,
whilst on the lips its very form is dying,
I smell my future here among the smoke
as ashen skies sing to the soul half-choked
by changes in the murmuring banks’ quiet crying.
6
Beautiful heavens and true, look how I change!
After such pride, after so much that’s strange,
an idleness and yet so full of power,
abandoned as I am to this such brilliant space,
over the houses of the dead my shade can trace
a path that tames me where it could devour.
Beautiful heavens and true, look how I change!
After such pride, after so much that’s strange,
an idleness and yet so full of power,
abandoned as I am to this such brilliant space,
over the houses of the dead my shade can trace
a path that tames me where it could devour.
7
The soul laid bare to all the flares of solstice,
I do uphold you, admirable justice
and all the brightness of your pitiless blade!
Pure, I return you to your premier place
Look at yourself! …But grant that light must trace
half shadows in its ever bleaker shade.
The soul laid bare to all the flares of solstice,
I do uphold you, admirable justice
and all the brightness of your pitiless blade!
Pure, I return you to your premier place
Look at yourself! …But grant that light must trace
half shadows in its ever bleaker shade.
8
O for and to and in myself apart,
I, at the poem’s source, its very heart,
between the void and the event so pure,
await the echo of my internal fame,
echoing reservoir that, harsh with shame,
sounds hollow in the soul of the future!
O for and to and in myself apart,
I, at the poem’s source, its very heart,
between the void and the event so pure,
await the echo of my internal fame,
echoing reservoir that, harsh with shame,
sounds hollow in the soul of the future!
9
Do you, false captive of this foliage, know
how these thin boughs eat up the outer glow,
how secrets dazzle though my eyes are closed.
What body drags me to a lingering end,
what to the bone-shard earth could make him bend?
One spark can make me think of what is lost.
Do you, false captive of this foliage, know
how these thin boughs eat up the outer glow,
how secrets dazzle though my eyes are closed.
What body drags me to a lingering end,
what to the bone-shard earth could make him bend?
One spark can make me think of what is lost.
10
Fire insubstantial, sacred and enclosed,
earthly fragment to the light exposed,
controlled by torches, this place pleases me,
composed of gold, of stone and shady glades,
where marble trembles over many shades;
and there, upon my tombs, the sleeping, faithful sea!
Fire insubstantial, sacred and enclosed,
earthly fragment to the light exposed,
controlled by torches, this place pleases me,
composed of gold, of stone and shady glades,
where marble trembles over many shades;
and there, upon my tombs, the sleeping, faithful sea!
11
Resplendent bitch, affright the idolater! while,
solitary and with a shepherd’s smile,
I pasture long with my mysterious sheep;
the white flock of my tranquil tombs,
so that the cautious doves, the vain dream’s perfumes
and curious angels can their distance keep.
Resplendent bitch, affright the idolater! while,
solitary and with a shepherd’s smile,
I pasture long with my mysterious sheep;
the white flock of my tranquil tombs,
so that the cautious doves, the vain dream’s perfumes
and curious angels can their distance keep.
12
Once here the future comes as idleness.
The brittle insect scrapes the dryness;
all is burned, defeated, drawn to air
I cannot tell to what severe essence…
Life is vast, being drunk with absence,
and bitterness is sweet and the mind, clear.
Once here the future comes as idleness.
The brittle insect scrapes the dryness;
all is burned, defeated, drawn to air
I cannot tell to what severe essence…
Life is vast, being drunk with absence,
and bitterness is sweet and the mind, clear.
13
The dead lie easy, hidden in earth where they
and all their mysteries are dried away.
High noon, this motionless and midday blue,
thinks of itself and of its own renown…
a mind complete and perfect crown,
I am the secret change you have in you.
The dead lie easy, hidden in earth where they
and all their mysteries are dried away.
High noon, this motionless and midday blue,
thinks of itself and of its own renown…
a mind complete and perfect crown,
I am the secret change you have in you.
14
You have me only to contain your fears!
My doubts and my regrets, my closest cares
are in the fault-line of your diamond heart…
But in their night with marbles heavy weighted,
a people vague and to their tree roots mated
have slowly nonetheless taken your part.
You have me only to contain your fears!
My doubts and my regrets, my closest cares
are in the fault-line of your diamond heart…
But in their night with marbles heavy weighted,
a people vague and to their tree roots mated
have slowly nonetheless taken your part.
15
Into an absence thick they melt away,
white race drunk up by red clay,
the gift of life has passed into the flowers!
Where are the phrases that the dead control,
a people’s art, the individual soul?
Worms now gnaw where tears once had their hour.
Into an absence thick they melt away,
white race drunk up by red clay,
the gift of life has passed into the flowers!
Where are the phrases that the dead control,
a people’s art, the individual soul?
Worms now gnaw where tears once had their hour.
16
Sharp squeals of girls tickled anew,
the eyes and teeth, the eyelids’ moistening dew,
the charming breast playing within the flame,
the blood that shines on lips so keen to yield,
those final gifts, that fingers aim to shield,
all below ground and back into the game!
Sharp squeals of girls tickled anew,
the eyes and teeth, the eyelids’ moistening dew,
the charming breast playing within the flame,
the blood that shines on lips so keen to yield,
those final gifts, that fingers aim to shield,
all below ground and back into the game!
17
And you, great soul, do you expect to dream
of lying colours that no longer seem
like waves or gold made here for fleshy eyes?
When you are merely vapours will you sing?
Go to! All flees! Presence here passes on a wing!
Holy impatience also dies!
And you, great soul, do you expect to dream
of lying colours that no longer seem
like waves or gold made here for fleshy eyes?
When you are merely vapours will you sing?
Go to! All flees! Presence here passes on a wing!
Holy impatience also dies!
18
Lean immortality, so black and gold,
a laurelled comforter, so ghastly to behold,
that out of death can, from a mother’s breast,
make beautiful untruth and pious ruse!
who nothing knows and nothing can refuse,
that empty skull and that eternal jest!
Lean immortality, so black and gold,
a laurelled comforter, so ghastly to behold,
that out of death can, from a mother’s breast,
make beautiful untruth and pious ruse!
who nothing knows and nothing can refuse,
that empty skull and that eternal jest!
19
Heads uninhabited, fathers profound,
under the weight of so much shovelled ground
are now but earth and can our steps deceive.
The real, the gnawing, wriggling worm of doom,
is not for you who sleep beneath the tomb;
and yet devours my life which he will never leave!
Heads uninhabited, fathers profound,
under the weight of so much shovelled ground
are now but earth and can our steps deceive.
The real, the gnawing, wriggling worm of doom,
is not for you who sleep beneath the tomb;
and yet devours my life which he will never leave!
20
Love perhaps, love, yes and self-hatred too?
His secret tooth is near enough and true
that any name I take could suit his whim!
Come now! He sees, he wants, he thinks, can touch
my flesh that pleases him. Even on my couch,
I live my life just to belong to him!
Love perhaps, love, yes and self-hatred too?
His secret tooth is near enough and true
that any name I take could suit his whim!
Come now! He sees, he wants, he thinks, can touch
my flesh that pleases him. Even on my couch,
I live my life just to belong to him!
21
Zeno of Elea, Zeno! Cruel Zeno!
Have you pierced me with that winged arrow
that hums and flies, yet does not fly!
The sound brings forth, the arrow kills!
Ah! sun… What tortoise shadow fills
the soul; Achilles motionless as he strides by!
Zeno of Elea, Zeno! Cruel Zeno!
Have you pierced me with that winged arrow
that hums and flies, yet does not fly!
The sound brings forth, the arrow kills!
Ah! sun… What tortoise shadow fills
the soul; Achilles motionless as he strides by!
22
No, no!… Arise! Into the following age!
My pensive body, pierce this thinking cage!
My breast, drink up the wind’s new drive!
A coolness of the sea exhaled,
returns my soul…with salt regaled!
let’s run the waves and spring from them alive.
No, no!… Arise! Into the following age!
My pensive body, pierce this thinking cage!
My breast, drink up the wind’s new drive!
A coolness of the sea exhaled,
returns my soul…with salt regaled!
let’s run the waves and spring from them alive.
23
Yes! frenzied sea of such delirious spin,
of chlamyde rent and panther skin,
with thousand thousands idols of the sun,
absolute Hydra drunk with your own blue flesh might
coil upon your sparkling tail and bite,
in such an uproar out of silence spun.
Yes! frenzied sea of such delirious spin,
of chlamyde rent and panther skin,
with thousand thousands idols of the sun,
absolute Hydra drunk with your own blue flesh might
coil upon your sparkling tail and bite,
in such an uproar out of silence spun.
24
The wind awakes!…to try and live is next!
A breath immense opens and shuts my text,
powdery foam springs daring from the rocks!
Fly, fly away my sun bedazzled pages!
Break waves, break, break rejoicing surges
over this tranquil roof where doves’ sails peck in flocks.
The wind awakes!…to try and live is next!
A breath immense opens and shuts my text,
powdery foam springs daring from the rocks!
Fly, fly away my sun bedazzled pages!
Break waves, break, break rejoicing surges
over this tranquil roof where doves’ sails peck in flocks.
*
Throughout history, poets have felt the ancient pull of the sea, exploring the full range of mankind’s nautical fears, dreams, and longings. The colorful legends of the sea–pirates and mermaids, phantom ships and the sunken city of Atlantis–have inspired as many imaginations as have the realities of lighthouses and shipwrecks, of icebergs and frothing foam and seaweed. This marvelous collection includes classics old and new, from Homer and Milton to Plath and Merwin. Here are Tennyson’s seductive sea-fairies next to Poe’s beloved Annabel Lee. Here is Coleridge’s darkly brooding “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner” alongside the grandeur of Shakespeare’s “Full Fathom Five.” And here is Masefield’s “I must go down to the seas again” alongside Cavafy’s “Ithaka” and Stevens’s “The Idea of Order at Key West.” In the wide variety of lyrics collected here–sonnets and sea chanteys, ballads and hymns and prayers–we feel the encompassing power of our planet’s restless waters as metaphor, mystery, and muse. READ more here:https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/…/poems-of-the-sea-by-j…/
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