... 37, 39, 48, 60-5, 67-72 85, 87-9, 92-100, 102-3, 105-12, 149-50, 155, 168, 184-6, 190-1, 193-5. – Prayers & Meditations, 110 (Prières et Méditations) Musset, Alfred de, 41, 45 –Poésies Clwisies, Nuit de Decembre, 41n. NANDI, SUNIL KUMAR, 176 Nath, Rabindra, 179 Nath, Amba Nanda, 155 Nirodbaran, 188-9 ...
... ¹ Alfred de Musset: Po é sies Choisies, p. 38. Page 41 Dans notre salle solitaire. Devant ma table vine s' assenir Un pauvre enfant v ê tu de noir, Qui me ressemblait comme un fr è re. Son visage é tait triste et beau: A la lueur de mon flambeau, ... books because some of the poets have had such an experience. Alfred de Musset says that from his childhood he had a comrade who was always with him ― he was like a brother to him; he accompanied him in life's joys and sorrows, in dangers and happiness-he was always with him. I shall read out some stanzas: Nuit de Dlcembre ¹ Du temps que j' é tais... being. But that being can only be perceived, seen and experienced and heard in solitude, in loneliness ― what you call calmness and quietness and detachment. This vision here, this being of Alfred de Musset says: "I can approach you but I cannot touch you; there is a separation between the two. We can touch only when there are some conditions fulfilled in the physical body." Another French poet ...
... some of the poets have had such an experience. Alfred de Musset says that from his childhood he had a comrade who was always with him — he was like a brother to him, he accompanied him in life's joys and sorrows, in dangers and happiness — he was always with him. I shall read out some stanzas (Alfred de Musset — Poésies Choisies, page 38, Nuit de Décembre): 'Du temps que j'étais écolier... psychic being. But that being can only be perceived, seen and experienced and heard in solitude, in loneliness — what you call calmness and quietness and detachment. This vision here, this being of Alfred de Musset says: "I can approach you but I cannot touch you, there is a separation between the two. We can touch only when there are some conditions fulfilled in the physical body." Another French poet... s'asseoir Un jeune homme vêtu de noir, Qui me ressemblait comme un frère. Je lui demandai mon chemin; II tenait un luth d'une main, De 1'autre un bouquet d'églantine. II me fit un salut d'ami, Et, se détournant à demi, Me montra du doigt la colline. Je m'en suis si bien souvenu, Que je 1'ai toujours reconnu A tous les instants de ma vie. C'est une étrange ...
... surely remember the famous poem – "Nuit de Décembre" – of the famous French poet Alfred de Musset where he speaks of a strange companion who used to visit him from time to time at critical moments of his life, come and sit by his side, – some unknown person dressed in black who however resembled him as though his own twin brother: Un pauvre enfant vêtu de noir Qui me ressemblait comme un ...
... The moon within her circle bright, Like the dot on an ‘i’.* 16. La Nuit *C’etait dans la nuit brune, Sur le clocher jauni, La lune, Comme un point sur un i.* *08.09.1953 Alfred de Musset* 17. The Tower *If we climbed, up the tower One, two, three, If we climbed up the tower You and me. We would see our country, Four, five, six. Red roofs, walls all... Sauteraient ci, sauteraient la, Les arbres bondiraient de joie. Je sifflerais dans mon sifflet Et toutes les fleurs chanteraient, Chanteraient de leur douce voix, En se pressant autour de moi. Je sifflerais dans mon sifflet Et les etoiles danseraient, Se tenant par le petit doigt, Dans le grand ciel tendu de soie. Si j’avais un petit sifflet Taille dans le saule... ! le vilain bec De ces corbeaux-la!* *28/04/1953 Lucie Delarue Mardrus* 6. A Little Joy is lost *The blackbird announces to the land at large “Three primroses blow on the thicket’s marge!” All the world ran there to see Only the crow did not agree, Unseen the flowers bloom and dance, A little joy is lost perchance.* 6. Il se perd un peu de joie *Le merle ...
... retained something of the Classical manner. Edmund Wilson 10 has an acute comment here: "It is enlightening to compare Shelley's lyric which begins 'O World! O Life! O Time!' with the poem of Alfred de Musset's which begins 'J'ai perdu ma force et ma vie'. These two lyrics are in some ways curiously similar: each is the breath of a Romantic sigh over the passing of the pride of youth. Yet the French... fou! ... over Mount Falou Night hangs her sway - The wind that comes across the mountain will blow My wits away! (K.D.S.) It is the indefinite atmosphere of the scene in Musset, Ou la mer vient mourir sur une plage endormie. Where the sea comes to die on a shore asleep. (K.D.S.) Anything like this - and much more what English Romanticism gives us - is... (Lucas) It brushes past us when love in Hugo defies time: Votre aile en le heurtant ne fera rien repandre Du vase ou je m'abreuve et que j'ai bien rempli. Mon ame a plus de feu que vous n' avez de cendre; Mon coeur a plus d'amour que vous n'avez d'oubli. Your flying wings may smite, but never can they dash The cup which I have brimmed and where my lips I wet. My ...
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