Freedom
On my school notebooks
On my desk and the trees
On the snow sand
I write your name
On all pages read
On all the blank pages
Stone blood paper or ash
I write your name
On the golden images
On the weapons of the warriors
On the crown of kings
I write your name
On the jungle and the desert
On the nests on the brooms
On the echo of my childhood
I write your name
On the wonders of the nights
On the white bread of the days
On the engaged seasons
I write your name
On all my azure rags
On the pond sun moldy
On the lake living moon
I write your name
On the fields on the horizon
On the wings of birds
And on the windmill of shadows
I write your name
On every puff of dawn
On the sea on the boats
On the demented mountain
I write your name
On the moss of the clouds
On the sweats of the storm
On heavy and bland rain
I write your name
On the glittering shapes
On the color bells
On the physical truth
I write your name
On the awake paths
On deployed roads
On the squares that overflow
I write your name
On the lamp that lights up
On the lamp that goes out
On my reasons together
I write your name
On the fruit cut in half
From the mirror and my room
On my bed empty shell
I write your name
On my greedy and tender dog
On his erect ears
On his clumsy paw
I write your name
On the springboard of my door
On familiar objects
On the flow of the blessed fire
I write your name
On any granted flesh
On the forehead of my friends
On each hand that is stretched out
I write your name
On the window of surprises
On the tender lips
Well above silence
I write your name
On my destroyed shelters
On my collapsed headlights
On the walls of my boredom
I write your name
On the absence without desire
On naked solitude
On the steps of death
I write your name
On health return
On the missing risk
On hope without memory
I write your name
And by the power of a word
I'm starting my life again
I was born to know you
To name you
Freedom
Paul Eluard
in Poetry and truths, 1942