Anyone read this? Cannot find a sample of it anywhere and was wondering if someone could throw out the opening paragraph or a few lines or screens if you have. Was thinking about reading it.
Also discuss: Apollinaire or similar lit
>>8800937
Just read the book, it's classic erotica and Apollinaire is a funny guy, you'll like it.
>>8801376
I will but it's more a matter of whether or not I ought to read it right away (in the event that it's the direction I've been looking for) or if I should cover a few other things I've been working towards first.
I haven't read it but I'm in for an Apollinaire general.
My personal fav is Il Pleut. One of my French teachers in college made us write our own calligrammes, I wrote a terrible one about a lamp-lighter. Not only was the poem terrible, but the image was tough to figure out. I had arrows to mark which direction the poem went. It also didn't help that it looked like the man was peeing.
I assume you can't read French otherwise you'd have find it quite easily on wikisource, but in case you just missed it (or someone else is interested) :
https://fr.m.wikisource.org/wiki/Les_Onze_Mille_Verges_ou_les_Amours_d%E2%80%99un_Hospodar
>>8802547
Thanks but I read exclusively in translation. Since I haven't started in on the anglo-American lit yet, I haven't had to learn French.
apollinaire thread, nice
Et l'unique cordeau des trompettes marines
>>8803346
Could have been nice
>>8804628
poetry doesnt translate well and i dont think theres enough francophones.
not sure why rimbaud gets posted all the time though.
>>8803346
Ô soleil c'est le temps de la raison ardente
>Bucharest is a beautiful city where it seems that mingle the East and the West. We are still in Europe if we take care only to the geographic location; but we are already in Asia if we refer to certain customs of the country, Turks, Serbs and other Macedonian races which can be seen in the streets of picturesque specimens. Yet it is a Latin country, the Roman soldiers who colonized the country had probably thought constantly turned towards Rome, the capital of the world and capital of all elegance. This Western nostalgia is transmitted to their descendants: Romanians think ever a city where luxury is natural, where life is joyful. But Rome is stripped of its splendor, the queen of cities ceded his crown to Paris and what wonder that, by an atavistic phenomenon, thought the Romanians always turned to Paris, which has so replaced Rome to head the universe!
>Like the other Romanians, the handsome prince Vibescu thought of Paris, the City of Light, where women, all beautiful, all have too lightly thigh. When still in Bucharest college, he had only to think of a Parisienne in the Paris to bend and being forced to masturbate slowly, with bliss. Later, he was discharged in many idiots and asses delicious Romanian. But he felt good, he needed a Parisienne.
>Mony Vibescu was from a very rich family. His great-grandfather was hospodar, equivalent under sub-prefect in France. But this dignity was transmitted name to the family, and the grandfather and father of Mony had each held the title of hospodar. Mony Vibescu also had to bear that title in honor of his grandfather.
>>8805927
Thanks anon.
Also, what Apollinaire wrote about the cubist painters is pretty interesting.
>>8802307
To be fair, the calligrammes are no way near his best. I think he even disowned them at some point.
Personal favourite poem is Automne Malade.
Automne malade et adoré
Tu mourras quand l’ouragan soufflera dans les roseraies
Quand il aura neigé
Dans les vergers
Pauvre automne
Meurs en blancheur et en richesse
De neige et de fruits mûrs
Au fond du ciel
Des éperviers planent
Sur les nixes nicettes aux cheveux verts et naines
Qui n’ont jamais aimé
Aux lisières lointaines
Les cerfs ont bramé
Et que j’aime ô saison que j’aime tes rumeurs
Les fruits tombant sans qu’on les cueille
Le vent et la forêt qui pleurent
Toutes leurs larmes en automne feuille à feuille
Les feuilles
Qu’on foule
Un train
Qui roule
La vie
S’écoule
>>8807431
>Le vent et la forêt qui pleurent
>Toutes leurs larmes en automne feuille à feuille
>Les feuilles
>Qu’on foule
>Un train
>Qui roule
>La vie
>S’écoule
really like this bit.