I studied French for six and a half years and loved every minute of it. Out of all the wonderful things which I was privileged to read in that beautiful language--novels, plays and poems by Zola, Sartre, Malraux, Sarraute, Moliere, Voltaire, Beckett, Ionesco, Rimbaud, de Musset, Baudelaire, Duras--my favorite is the last poem of Robert Desnos.
That page is in French. This is my own translation:
"I have dreamed so much of you,
I have so walked with, so talked to,
so loved your shadow,
that nothing remains to me of you.
All that remains for me is to be the shadow among shadows
To be a hundred times more shadow than shadow
To be the shadow which shall come and come again into your life of sun."
Robert Desnos died in a concentration camp in 1945.
