The Deaf and Blind


Paul Eluard

Do we reach the sea with clocks

In our pockets, with the noise of the sea

In the sea, or are we the carriers

Of a purer and more silent water?

The water rubbing against our hands sharpens knives.

The warriors have found their weapons in the waves

And the sound of their blows is like

The rocks that smash the boats at night.

It is the storm and the thunder. Why not the silence

Of the flood, for we have dreamt within us

Space for the greatest silence and we breathe

Like the wind over terrible seas, like the wind

That creeps slowly over every horizon.

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