Long Vivien Poems
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“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
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.
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!
Infinite Dot Universe: A Spoof
This rhyming poem was inspired by Arthur Vaso.
It's about a poetic form, and just so you know...
these lines are being written just as a silly spoof
because some of my poems can be called a goof!
There's a new form called, "Infinite Dot Universe"
No, there really is not. Writing this, I feel perverse
because you see, I'd never tout my own poetry.
That would expose a definite lack of my humility.
The gist is that a person's favorite poet should be
him or herself. A bit like the haughty, Vivien Leigh
who thought, "Everything should be all about me."
If things didn't go her way, she'd say, "Fiddle dee dee!"
I digress and must confess this notion of Infinite Dot.
Perhaps instead of dot, let's rename it what it's not.
I think a narcissist would consider it more of a dote
claiming a masterpiece with each poem he/she wrote.
I have favorite poets, and one among them is not ME!
I wouldn't choose those I'd think special in PS. No siree!
That would be like saying who is worthy and who is not,
like the flawed Universe poetry form called Infinite Dot.
I know the first verses are nonsensical to say the least,
but they serve as a sword to slay an insensitive beast.
It's all "Much Ado About Nothing," I would tell a troll
who thinks he's of some importance. Ha! I took a poll.
Leonore was disliked, cast aside and ignored,
her rage increased with bizarre behavior:
why couldn't she be the eternal and idolized Queen?
And envy grew towards the more successful thespians;
her restlessness to do harm was a demon that cringed,
" It's me or nobody! " her words caused a tremor
and while the stage was about to open the curtains,
she emerged with the usual smirk they had seen!
Leonore faked sweetness lacked emotion and compassion:
all she lived for was her changeless ego so persistent,
which emphasized revenge, anger, vanity and spite;
and declaring herself the Queen of alluded beauty,
in front of an audience of disagreeable contempt:
Lenore continued to act erratically dreaming of a trophy,
or even an Oscar of glimmering gold to placate her desire...
still living in an imaginary state of strong conviction!
Her love for jewelry was indomitable: brilliant diamonds so shiny
decorated her elegant dress of shimmering silver like her crown,
and with a presence so stately and impressive, she bowed down
under neon lights but her appearance was snorted in derision;
how delusive was to befriend and audience of little sympathy
hearing hoots of laughter instead of acceptance and recognition!
Leonor went on despite the commotion rising in the agitated audience,
" I've dedicated my time to my vocation and they need an applause,
Hollywood has never seen an actress of my caliber. " she hollered;
" I put to shame Grace Kelly and Vivien Scarlett: I am more talented!"
There was a brief pause, then contemptuous scoffing and mocking
" I said I'm greater than them! I won't accept any mumbling! "
By then the theater resounded with apathy as her tension swiftly grew;
Leanor grabbed the stiletto knife concealed inside her dress made by Frew,
" With this knife going deep inside, I prove how brave I can be;
death is glory, I die an heroine on this infamous stage! Watch me! "
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.
It was a unique time..
Glamourous era..
Class was king..
Elegance resonated through..
Filled with sophistication..
Classic, timeless, beauties..
In the airwaves..
The airwaves of Hollywood..
Vintage movies are meaningful..
A character is often inspired..
Inspiration allows meaning..
Movies touched the heart..
One's emotions left with feelings..
Feelings directly to the heart..
Fulfillment was captured in a classic movie..
All the makings of a wholesome movie..
Movie stars they were called..
Because these stars..
Were shining stars..
that glowed so brighly and effortlessly..
These stars distributed impeccible talent..
Multi talented they were..
Acting, Singing, and dancing..
Completely absorbed they were
In passion..
Deep desire for creative arts..
Rita Hayworth, Vivien Leigh, Audrey Hepburn..
John Wayne, Charlton Heston, Paul Newman..
Indeed these shining stars were the epitome
Of class..
Carried with such grace..
A generation of stars..
From a different time..
Whom helped us all embrace the silver screen..
At times these shining stars left us all breathless..
Captivated by their beauty, wittiness, glamour, and charm..
hypnotized by their character..
Left with a feeling of excitement..
They have all perished now..
Although they have perished..
They are still alive and well on the silver screen..
Along with the exquisite memories..
They have left behind..
For all of us..
Memories never perish..
Memories are infinite..