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André Breton

“The sexual eagle exults he will gild the earth once more
his descending wing
his ascending wing sways imperceptibly the sleeves of the peppermint
and all the water's adorable undress
Days are counted so clearly
that the mirror has yielded to a froth of fronds
of the sky i see but one star
now around us there is only the milk describing its dizzy ellipsis
from which sometimes soft intuition with pupils of eyed agate
rises to poke its umbrella tip in the mud of the electric light
then great reaches cast anchor stretch out in the depths of my closed eyes
icebergs radiating the customs of all the worlds yet to come
bron from a fragment of you fragment unkown and iced on the wing
your existence the giant bouquet escaping fr4om my arms
is badly tied it didgs out walls unrolls the stairs of houses
loses its leaves in the show windows of the street
to gether the news i am always leaving to gather the news
the newspaper is glass today and if letters no longer arrive
it's that the train has been consumed
the great incision of the emerald which gaave birth to the foliage
is scarred for always the sawdust of blinding snow
and the quarries of flesh are sounding along on the first shelf
reversed on this shelf
i take the impression of death and life
to the liquid air”


Andre Breton
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