La Passion Patibulaire I Le vent siffle, siffle, siffle ! Oh! ce vent âpre et sans répit, Ce vent aigu comme un poignard, Ce vent qui pénètre jusqu’à la peau Transperçant notre vêture trop légère […]
Esquisses.… I J’ai marché dans la vie, comme on marche en un rêve… Je préfère, déserte et lointaine, la grève, La cime solitaire et le pic désolé, La cabane à l’écart, le sentier isolé, Le […]
In my prison, I had a curious dream, I dreamed that a great day had taken place: The day of those gnawed by suffering, Tracked and pursued by enemy fate… […]
L’étiquetté « anarchiste » est comme toutes les étiquettes bien imparfaite. Aucune étiquette ne peut vraiment s’appliquer à l’homme libre, qui est au dessus de tous les partis, qui reste lui même, pas même celle […]
Amertume Je pensais pourtant que tu serais venue…. Il faisait froid sous ces combles et les minutes s’écoulèrent d’abord lentement. Il me semblait à tout instant entendre ton pas léger dans l’escalier. À tout instant […]
f someone asked me what inscription I should like to see appear on my grave marker—if ever the luxury of resting in a tomb was given to me—I would first respond that I desire to sleep my last sleep in the nearest hole in the ground. If my friends insisted, this is the epitaph that I would be pleased to have them place on the slab recalling my memory: He lived. He gave of himself. He died unsatisfied. […]
VII. 1923 Dear Comrade, I will write to you in French, for I write that language easily enough. So, you ask me for some explanations. Here they are. If, in my letter, I have alluded […]
Men stone the prophets still, and persecute those sent to them to point the upward way! In prison oft, this female St. Paul, an exile now and outcast from her own, living in Berlin even […]
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