French writer of the 20th century, Louis Aragon was involved in Dadaism from 1919 to 1924, and then became a founding member of Surrealism in 1924, with André Breton and Philippe Soupault. In the 1920s, Aragon became a fellow traveller of the French Communist Party along with several other surrealists, and took out his card in January 1927.

He was a leader of the Resistance during World War II, and he edited several newspapers. He wrote many poems, including war poems and love poems dedicated to his wife Elsa Triolet. His poems have then been sung by many famous French singers (Léo Féré, Jean Ferrat, George Brassens...), contributing to his fame.


1- Poem
O mon jardin d'eau fraîche et d'ombre
Ma danse d'être mon cœur sombre
Mon ciel des étoiles sans nombre
Ma barque au loin douce à ramer
Heureux celui qui devient sourd
Au chant s'il n'est de son amour
Aveugle au jour d'après son jour
Ses yeux sur toi seule fermés

Heureux celui qui meurt d'aimer
Heureux celui qui meurt d'aimer

D'aimer si fort ses lèvres closes
Qu'il n'ait besoin de nulle chose
Hormis le souvenir des roses
A jamais de toi parfumées
Celui qui meurt même à douleur
A qui sans toi le monde est leurre
Et n'en retient que tes couleurs
Il lui suffit qu'il t'ait nommée

Heureux celui qui meurt d'aimer
Heureux celui qui meurt d'aimer

Mon enfant dit-il ma chère âme
Le temps de te connaître ô femme
L'éternité n'est qu'une pâme
Au feu dont je suis consumé
Il a dit ô femme et qu'il taise
Le nom qui ressemble à la braise
A la bouche rouge à la fraise
A jamais dans ses dents formée

Heureux celui qui meurt d'aimer
Heureux celui qui meurt d'aimer

Il a dit ô femme et s'achève
Ainsi la vie, ainsi le rêve
Et soit sur la place de grève
Ou dans le lit accoutumé
Jeunes amants vous dont c'est l'âge
Entre la ronde et le voyage
Fou s'épargnant qui se croit sage
Criez à qui vous veut blâmer

Heureux celui qui meurt d'aimer
Heureux celui qui meurt d'aimer


2 - Translation

O my garden of fresh water and shade
My dance to be my dark heart
My sky of countless stars
My boat far away easy to row
Blessed is he who becomes deaf
To the song if it isn't the one of his love
Blind to the day after his day
His eyes closed only on you

Blessed is he who dies of love
Blessed is he who dies of love

To love so hard his lips closed
It has no need for anything
Apart from the memory of roses
Perfumed of you forever
He who dies even for pain
To whom without you the world is illusion
And retains from it only your colors
It's enough for him that he named you

Blessed is he who dies of love
Blessed is he who dies of love

My child he said my dear soul
The time to know you O woman
Eternity is a swoon
In the fire which consumes me
He said O woman, and he shall not say
The name which resembles the embers
The red mouth the strawberry
Forever in his teeth formed

Blessed is he who dies of love
Blessed is he who dies of love

He said O woman and ends
This way his life this way the dream
And be it on the City Hall square
Or in your customary bed
You young lovers whose age it is
Between dancing and traveling
Fool sparing himself thinking he is wise
Shout out to who wants to blame you

Blessed is he who dies of love
Blessed is he who dies of love