(1900 - 1945 / Paris)

I Have Dreamed Of You So Much

I have dreamed of you so much that you are no longer real.
Is there still time for me to reach your breathing body, to kiss your mouth and make
your dear voice come alive again?

I have dreamed of you so much that my arms, grown used to being crossed on my
chest as I hugged your shadow, would perhaps not bend to the shape of your body.
For faced with the real form of what has haunted me and governed me for so many
days and years, I would surely become a shadow.

O scales of feeling.

I have dreamed of you so much that surely there is no more time for me to wake up.
I sleep on my feet prey to all the forms of life and love, and you, the only one who
counts for me today, I can no more touch your face and lips than touch the lips and
face of some passerby.

I have dreamed of you so much, have walked so much, talked so much, slept so much
with your phantom, that perhaps the only thing left for me is to become a phantom
among phantoms, a shadow a hundred times more shadow than the shadow the
moves and goes on moving, brightly, over the sundial of your life.

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Other poems of DESNOS (15)

Comments (15)

I found this poem five years ago at the advent of an intercontinental relationship. I thought it beautiful then. Five years later, and with no love lost, I find it tawdry and cheap. It understands nothing. It touches upon nothing. Love grows and strengthens, and what I thought this described, doesn't come close to what actually happens. Thank God, because this is torturous. And the reality is not. I am still happy. Happier than ever. There are no shadows here.
Beautiful poem about of life sorrows and says eunuch sorrows in this world
It maybe worth it to look at the original French version of this beautiful poem - 'J'ai tant rêvé de toi que tu perds ta réalité. Est-il encore temps d'atteindre ce corps vivant Et de baiser sur cette bouche la naissance De la voix qui m'est chère? J'ai tant rêvé de toi que mes bras habitués En étreignant ton ombre A se croiser sur ma poitrine ne se plieraient pas Au contour de ton corps, peut-être. Et que, devant l'apparence réelle de ce qui me hante Et me gouverne depuis des jours et des années, Je deviendrais une ombre sans doute. O balances sentimentales. J'ai tant rêvé de toi qu'il n'est plus temps Sans doute que je m'éveille. Je dors debout, le corps exposé A toutes les apparences de la vie Et de l'amour et toi, la seule qui compte aujourd'hui pour moi, Je pourrais moins toucher ton front Et tes lèvres que les premières lèvres et le premier front venu. J'ai tant rêvé de toi, tant marché, parlé, Couché avec ton fantôme Qu'il ne me reste plus peut-être, Et pourtant, qu'a être fantôme Parmi les fantômes et plus ombre Cent fois que l'ombre qui se promène Et se promènera allègrement Sur le cadran solaire de ta vie.'
....I love the metaphor of being a shadow, very nice ★
= scales of feeling! With the muse of deep love in your heart. Nice work.
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