Who is Paul Eluard

Paul Éluard (French: [elɥar]), born Eugène Émile Paul Grindel ([ɡʁɛ̃dɛl]; 14 December 1895 – 18 November 1952), was a French poet and one of the founders of the Surrealist movement.In 1916, he chose the name Paul Éluard, a matronymic borrowed from his maternal grandmother. He adhered to Dadaism and became one of the pillars of Surrealism by opening the way to artistic action politically committed to the Communist Party.

During World War II, he was the author of several poems against Nazism that circulated clandestinely. He became known worldwide as The Poet of Freedom and is considered the most gifted of French surrealist poets.

Biography

Éluard was born in Saint-Denis, Seine-Saint-Denis, France, the son of Eugène Clément Grindel and wife Je...
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Paul Eluard Poems

  • Certitude
    If I speak itâ??s to hear you more clearly
    If I hear you Iâ??m sure to understand you

    If you smile itâ??s the better to enter me ...
  • Other Children
    "Little child of my five senses
    and of my tenderness."
    Let us cradle our loves,
    We will have good children. ...
  • Hunted
    A few grains of dust more or less
    On ancient shoulders
    Locks of weakness on weary foreheads
    This theatre of honey and faded roses ...
  • Uninterrupted Poetry
    From the sea to the source
    From mountain to plain
    Runs the phantom of life
    The foul shadow of death ...
  • Ecstasy
    I am in front of this feminine land
    Like a child in front of the fire
    Smiling vaguely with tears in my eyes
    In front of this land where all moves in me ...
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Top 10 most used topics by Paul Eluard

I Love You 20 Love 20 Sky 15 Earth 14 Heart 13 Night 13 Fire 12 Life 11 Speak 11 Sleep 10


Paul Eluard Quotes

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Comments about Paul Eluard

Fraveris: last look it doesn't take everything to make a world. it takes happiness and nothing else. paul eluard aidas lakštutis
Neurosocialself: on the window of surprises on a pair of expectant lips in a state far deeper than silence i write your name liberty paul eluard
Gwenckatz: but, at night, the man sees his eyes whose pallor is the only gift. they are too big for him to hide them and too heavy for the lost wind of the dream. when the cat is dancing it's to isolate his prison and when he thinks it's up to the walls of his eyes. -paul eluard
Mkallet: why canada needs a national pandemic day: senator mégie
Rs64624881: statement by paul eluard
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Poem of the day

William Cowper Poem
Denner's Old Woman
 by William Cowper

In this mimic form of a matron in years,
How plainly the pencil of Denner appears!
The matron herself, in whose old age we see
Not a trace of decline, what a wonder is she!
No dimness of eye, and no cheek hanging low,
No wrinkle, or deep-furrow-d frown on the brow!
Her forehead indeed is here circled around
With locks like the ribbon with which they are bound;
...

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