Best Vivien Poems
“Nous nous sommes assises” (“We Sat Down”)
by Renee Vivien
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
1.
Darling, we were like two exiles
bearing our desolate souls within us.
Dawn broke more revolting than any illness...
Neither of us knew the native language
As we wandered the streets like strangers.
The morning’s stench, so oppressive!
Yet you shone like the sunrise of hope...
2.
As night fell, we sat down,
Your drab dress grey as any evening,
To feel the friendly freshness of kisses.
No longer alone in the universe,
We exchanged lovely verses with languor.
Darling, we dallied, without quite daring to believe,
And I told you: “The evening is far more beautiful than the dawn.”
You nudged me with your forehead, then gave me your hands,
And I no longer feared uncertain tomorrows.
The sunset sashayed off with its splendid insolence,
But no voice dared disturb our silence...
I forgot the houses and their inhospitality...
The sunset dyed my mourning attire purple.
Then I told you, kissing your half-closed eyelids:
“Violets are more beautiful than roses.”
Darkness overwhelmed the horizon...
Harmonious sobs surrounded us...
A strange languor subdued the strident city.
Thus we savored the enigmatic hour.
Slowly death erased all light and noise,
Then I knew the august face of the night.
You let the last veils slip to your nude feet...
Then your body appeared even nobler to me, dimly lit by the stars.
Finally came the appeasement of rest, of returning to ourselves...
And I told you: “Here is the height of love…”
We who had come carrying our desolate souls within us,
like two exiles, like complete strangers.
Renee Vivien, born Pauline Mary Tarn (1877-1909), was a British poet and high-profile lesbian of the Belle Époque who wrote French poems in the style of the Symbolistes and Parnassiens. Keywords/Tags: Renee Vivien, French, translation, England, English, France, lesbian, soul, souls, soulmate, dawn, language, love, kiss, kisses, night, exile, exiles, strangers, misfits
The striking actress
Vivien Leigh played the role
of Scarlett in, "Gone With The Wind".
The Southern belle fell in love with Rhett,
who had a set of charming blue eyes that captured
her heart burning with passion and love: like her red dress!
In the heart-wrenching scene on a barren hill,
over-looking the luxurious mansion, we see furious Scarlett
vowing herself to never go angry again and not to live in poverty;
and we hear her loud voice thundering amid cannons' blasts, as she
pleads her promise with vengeance staring at the orange-colored sunset!
And from that war, which brought much destruction to the South, a great nation rose!
The trees grows tomorrows leaves
it's yesterday and Spring was here
it waited for the Summers Eve
and Autumn's spread of gourd ease
and winter's rest on Christmas gifts
a world of wander opens the gate
and behold their living past are
now at last alive again into your
loving open arms and you are
mindless to stench of their
scent turned to zombies
and start eating your flesh.
Well, that's a new version
of your dear precious Terra
or is it Terror, well it's my turn
Frankly I don't give a dang!
Wooo--tossed your cookies have you!
All blond curls and blur of blue velvet shorts
tilting arms splayed and plasticine legs bent
balancing along the bombsite wall, intrepid.
There was a difference between him and me
not like plastic cups and porcelain
rather a faint aura of all the things he’d become
and all the things I’d fail to be.
Behind him was a semi-detached
loving parents the perfect match.
Behind me was a block of flats
preoccupied parents and “don’t-do-that!”
I remember Vivien and the dying light the broken glass
the stones we threw and the shadowy oncoming night
and his mother’s call, “Come Vivien, we’re off on holiday
tomorrow and it’s time for your bath.”
Then the sense of vacancy when he had gone
the empty bombsite the broken wall cat noise and dog poo
the evening mauve damp street lights grew and there on
the spot where he had trod was his shoe pattern tread.
I remember the moment he left and the nasty clinging class
thing growing in my head.
You came in quiet, steady hands
like Vivien Thomas in a crowded room
studying the pieces I thought were lost
tracing the cracks no one else could see.
Your words were gentle, your laugh a balm
mending what others left in pieces
stitch by stitch, you held my brokenness
turning fear into something soft and whole.
You didn’t rush me, didn’t try to fix too fast
just knew how to let the hurt breathe
and slowly, I felt my heart remember
how to trust, how to beat again.
Now every pulse carries your touch
a quiet miracle I never saw coming
my heart healed, my soul steady
all because you knew how to stay.