Yves Bonnefoy Poèmes
nrf Poésie / Gallimard © Mercure de France, 1978. © Éditions Gallimard, 1982
La beauté [from Hier
régnant désert; page 136]
Celle qui ruine
l’être, la beauté,
Sera suppliciée, mise
à la roue,
Déshonorée, dite
coupable, faite sang
Et cri, et nuit, de
toute joie dépossédée
– O déchirée sur
toutes grilles d’avant l’aube,
O piétinée sur toute
route et traversée,
Notre haut désespoir
sera que tu vives,
Notre cœur que tu
souffres, notre voix
De t’humilier parmi
tes larmes, de te dire
La menteuse, la
pourvoyeuse du ciel noir,
Notre désir pourtant
étant ton corps infirme,
Notre pitié ce cœur
menant à toute boue.
English
translation by Supratik Sen
Beauty
The one that depraves
the being, beauty,
Tormented, confined to the wheel,
Disgraced, defined guilty, seeps
And hollers, and night, dispossessed of all ecstasy
- O ruptured on all grilles before sunup,
O stomped on all road and cruised,
Our towering despair that you may live,
Our heart that you droop, our voice
To denigrate you in your weeps, to tell you
Liar, director of the ebony sky,
Our longing withal your tottering carcass,
Our pity this heart shepherds through the sludge.
Tormented, confined to the wheel,
Disgraced, defined guilty, seeps
And hollers, and night, dispossessed of all ecstasy
- O ruptured on all grilles before sunup,
O stomped on all road and cruised,
Our towering despair that you may live,
Our heart that you droop, our voice
To denigrate you in your weeps, to tell you
Liar, director of the ebony sky,
Our longing withal your tottering carcass,
Our pity this heart shepherds through the sludge.
Note:
While doing my research in France, I was exposed to many wonderful poets, and authors.
Yves Bonnefoy was certainly one of them. But I must also quickly add that I could penetrate into his world (if I dare to think so), thanks to my professor Madame Renée Ventresque.
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