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Famous Je Poems by Famous Poets

These are examples of famous Je poems written by some of the greatest and most-well-known modern and classical poets. PoetrySoup is a great educational poetry resource of famous je poems. These examples illustrate what a famous je poem looks like and its form, scheme, or style (where appropriate).

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Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry 
...Une boule
les prières
murmurent
peureuses.
Des «Moi» bêtes
s’ inondent,
sans que tu saches
jamais,
ce que je demande....Read more of this...
by Kraniotis, Dimitris P

...
 ("Je suis la Charité.") 
 
 {February, 1837.} 


 "Lo! I am Charity," she cries, 
 "Who waketh up before the day; 
 While yet asleep all nature lies, 
 God bids me rise and go my way." 
 
 How fair her glorious features shine, 
 Whereon the hand of God hath set 
 An angel's attributes divine, 
 With all a woman's sweetness met. 
 
 Above the...Read more of this...
by Hugo, Victor 
...
 ("Oh, quand je dors.") 
 
 {XXVII.} 


 Oh! when I sleep, come near my resting-place, 
 As Laura came to bless her poet's heart, 
 And let thy breath in passing touch my face— 
 At once a space 
 My lips will part. 
 
 And on my brow where too long weighed supreme 
 A vision—haply spent now—black as night, 
 Let thy look as a star arise and beam— 
 At ...Read more of this...
by Hugo, Victor 
...
 ("Ah! je le tiens enfin.") 
 
 {CROMWELL, Act II., October, 1827.} 


THURLOW communicates the intention of Parliament to 
 offer CROMWELL the crown. 
 
 CROMWELL. And is it mine? And have my feet at length 
 Attained the summit of the rock i' the sand? 
 
 THURLOW. And yet, my lord, you have long reigned. 
 
 CROM. Nay, nay! 
 Powe...Read more of this...
by Hugo, Victor 
...nd soleil, et de la pluie;
C’est ce qu’on appelle le jour de lessive des gueux.”
(Bavard, baveux, à la croupe arrondie,
Je te prie, au moins, ne bave pas dans la soupe).
“Les saules trempés, et des bourgeons sur les ronces—
C’est là, dans une averse, qu’on s’abrite.
J’avais sept ans, elle était plus petite.
Elle était toute mouillée, je lui ai donné des primevères.”
Les taches de son gilet montent au chiffre de trentehuit.
“Je la chatouillais, pour la faire rire.
J’éprouvais ...Read more of this...
by Eliot, T S (Thomas Stearns)

...I know I might have lived in such a way
As to have suffered only pain:
Loving not man nor dog;
Not money, even; feeling
Toothache perhaps, but never more than an hour away
From skill and novocaine;
Making no contacts, dealing with life through Agents, drinking
 one cocktail, betting two dollars, wearing raincoats in the
 rain.
Betrayed at length by no one ...Read more of this...
by St. Vincent Millay, Edna 
...It has happened suddenly,
by surprise, in an arbor,
or while drinking good coffee,
after speaking, or before,

that I dumbly inhabit
a density; in language,
there is nothing to stop it,
for nothing retains an edge.

Simple ignorance presents,
later, words for a function,
but it is common pretense
of speech, by a convention,

and there is nothing at all
but...Read more of this...
by Hall, Donald 
...tes yeux fait le tour de mon coeur, 
Un rond de danse et de douceur, 
Auréole du temps, berceau nocturne et sûr, 
Et si je ne sais plus tout ce que j'ai vécu 
C'est que tes yeux ne m'ont pas toujours vu. 
Feuilles de jour et mousse de rosée, 
Roseaux du vent, sourires parfumés, 
Ailes couvrant le monde de lumière, 
Bateaux chargés du ciel et de la mer, 
Chasseurs des bruits et sources de couleurs, 
Parfums éclos d'une couvée d'aurores 
Qui gît toujours sur la paille des astre...Read more of this...
by Eluard, Paul 
...dorable a perdu son odeur!

Et le Temps m'engloutit minute par minute,
Comme la neige immense un corps pris de roideur;
Je contemple d'en haut le globe en sa rondeur,
Et je n'y cherche plus l'abri d'une cahute.
Avalanche, veux-tu m'emporter dans ta chute?...Read more of this...
by Baudelaire, Charles 
...
Faut-il qu'il m'en souvienne
La joie venait toujours après la peine.

Vienne la nuit sonne l'heure
Les jours s'en vont je demeure

Les mains dans les mains restons face à face
Tandis que sous
Le pont de nos bras passe
Des éternels regards l'onde si lasse

Vienne la nuit sonne l'heure
Les jours s'en vont je demeure

L'amour s'en va comme cette eau courante
L'amour s'en va
Comme la vie est lente
Et comme l'Espérance est violente

Vienne la nuit sonne l'heure
Les jours s'en von...Read more of this...
by Apollinaire, Guillaume 
...Je connais le d?sespoir dans ses grandes lignes. Le d?sespoir n'a pas d'ailes, il ne
se tient pas n?cessairement ? une table desservie sur une terrasse, le soir, au bord de
la mer. C'est le d?sespoir et ce n'est pas le retour d'une quantit? de petits faits
comme des graines qui quittent ? la nuit tombante un sillon pour un autre. Ce n'est pas
la mousse sur u...Read more of this...
by Breton, Andre 
...ocèdent muets et glacés.

Personne pure, ombre divine,
Qu'ils sont doux, tes pas retenus !
Dieux !... tous les dons que je devine
Viennent à moi sur ces pieds nus ! 

Si, de tes lèvres avancées,
Tu prépares pour l'apaiser,
A l'habitant de mes pensées
La nourriture d'un baiser, 

Ne hâte pas cet acte tendre,
Douceur d'être et de n'être pas,
Car j'ai vécu de vous attendre,
Et mon coeur n'était que vos pas....Read more of this...
by Valery, Paul 
...r un maquereau roux et rose
C'était un juif il sentait l'ail
Et l'avait venant de Formose
Tirée d'un bordel de Changaï

Je connais des gens de toutes sortes
Ils n'égalent pas leurs destins
Indécis comme feuilles mortes
Leurs yeux sont des feux mal éteints
Leurs coeurs bougent comme leurs portes...Read more of this...
by Apollinaire, Guillaume 
...peine ma piste.
En Yorkshire, conférencier;
A Londres, un peu banquier,
Vous me paierez bein la tête.
C’est à Paris que je me coiffe
Casque noir de jemenfoutiste.
En Allemagne, philosophe
Surexcité par Emporheben
Au grand air de Bergsteigleben;
J’erre toujours de-ci de-là
A divers coups de tra là là
De Damas jusqu’à Omaha.
Je célébrai mon jour de fête
Dans une oasis d’Afrique
Vetu d’une peau de girafe.

On montrera mon cénotaphe
Aux côtes brulantes de Mozambique....Read more of this...
by Eliot, T S (Thomas Stearns) 
...s,
Cigarettes and sashes,
Stare at me, perhaps
Desperate Apachès.

"Needn't bother me,
Jolly well you know it;
Parceque je suis
Quartier Latin poet.

"Give you villanelles,
Madrigals and lyrics;
Ballades and rondels,
Odes and panegyrics.
Poet pinched and poor,
Pricked by cold and hunger;
Trouble's troubadour,
Misery's balladmonger."

Think how ***** it is!
Every move I'm making,
Cosmic gravity's
Center I am shaking;
Oh, how droll to feel
(As I now am feeling),
Even as I reel,...Read more of this...
by Service, Robert William 
...he heart of me faded as well,
Until nothing is left
Of my garden,
But a soul sunk to hell. 

Hail!
Poet prend ton lute -Je disparaire,
No more together we'll enter the
Enchanted garden of make-believe,
Nor my sad soul listen while thine deceive.
No more you'll be the God of Sacrifice,
Nor I the crucified.

Ah, Garden of Allah -how bitter sweet
Thy fruit. Why breakest thou the heart?
Why spoilest thou the soul with notes
From thy golden lute?
Lo! our garden a common room
Our C...Read more of this...
by Crowley, Aleister 
...
 ("N'ai-je pas pour toi, belle juive.") 
 
 {XII., Oct. 27, 1828.} 


 To please you, Jewess, jewel! 
 I have thinned my harem out! 
 Must every flirting of your fan 
 Presage a dying shout? 
 
 Grace for the damsels tender 
 Who have fear to hear your laugh, 
 For seldom gladness gilds your lips 
 But blood you mean to quaff. 
 
 In jealousy so z...Read more of this...
by Hugo, Victor 
...
 ("Ho, guerriers! je suis né dans le pays des Gaules.") 
 
 {V., March 11, 1825.} 


 Ho, warriors! I was reared in the land of the Gauls; 
 O'er the Rhine my ancestors came bounding like balls 
 Of the snow at the Pole, where, a babe, I was bathed 
 Ere in bear and in walrus-skin I was enswathed. 
 
 Then my father was strong, whom the years lowly bow,— 
 A bi...Read more of this...
by Hugo, Victor 
...ence *confession
And study in Peter's wordes and in Paul's;
I walk and fishe Christian menne's souls,
To yield our Lord Jesus his proper rent;
To spread his word is alle mine intent."
"Now by your faith, O deare Sir," quoth she,
"Chide him right well, for sainte charity.
He is aye angry as is a pismire,* *ant
Though that he have all that he can desire,
Though I him wrie* at night, and make him warm, *cover
And ov'r him lay my leg and eke mine arm,
He groaneth as our boar that...Read more of this...
by Chaucer, Geoffrey 
...poet when they do you
and that, yer ****, 's a crude four-letter word.

'Listen, ****!' I said, 'before you start your jeering
the reason why I want this in a book
's to give ungrateful cunts like you a hearing!'
A book, yer stupid ****, 's not worth a ****!

'The only reason why I write this poem at all
on yobs like you who do the dirt on death
's to give some higher meaning to your scrawl.'
Don't fucking bother, ****! Don't waste your breath!

'You piss-artist skinhead cun...Read more of this...
by Harrison, Tony

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Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry