René Arcos

René Arcos Poems

René Arcos Biography

René Arcos (Clichy September 16, 1880 - Neuilly-sur-Seine 16 July 1959) is a French writer and poet associated with the group of the Abbey He met Georges Duhamel in 1906, with whom he participated in the experience of "the Abbaye de Créteil". The Abbey, Villa edge Marne open to artists, ceases operation as soon as 1908 1. René Arcos then settled in Paris. He also gives lectures on poetry throughout Europe. Reformed, it is the war of the American newspaper correspondent Chicago Daily News during the First World War. He founded in 1918 the Publishing Hourglass in Geneva and participates with Romain Rolland in the founding of the journal Europe which remains the editor until 1929. A street named after him in Créteil)

The Best Poem Of René Arcos

The God

IF thou art a collecting-place,
a place in space where all things
are wont to meet
for knowledge and to fructify,
living a heart's offensive life,
if thou hast taken to thee all ideas,
those, young, which step together like a thousand men
clashing cymbals,
and those which are serene and spread themselves
like streams in time,

that also which a man who lived alone abandoned,
so great that it obstructs our highest doors,
so tragic, great, and heavy on our shoulders
that none of us has had the strength to move it yet,

if thou hast known all shocks and impulses,
all looks, all coveting of hands,
contagion of fire, and blood, and words,
and if sometimes thou sawest, lighting all men's eyes,
the crown emblazoned high on standards
in clash of weapons, in a rocket of cries,

if thou art centre unto vortices
whereinto rush pell-mell,
rejoicing endlessly because they blend with thine,
the world's pulsations,
if thou sufficest to be all at once,
all that is, and stirs, and strives to be,
if he who is thyself and truest of all
adds to all this
desire still to be more,
desire born of thyself, of him who commands
all strangers come from vasts of space
for the communion of thy mind and blood,
and to shake themselves unto thy semblance,

if thou sufficest to be thus sometimes,
this present a vast future rumbles in,
O thou who art come already from all the dead,
and if, from being so much,
thou movest thyself to the point of being suddenly,
born from thy depths,
the invasion, from stage to stage,
of a strange birth in columns of flames,
to the point of being but this marvellous pang
which digs a vacuum below thy heart,
this laugh, born of thy throat's ecstatic aching,
and if thou wert compelled,
in order from the stifling to be free,
to utter a great cry,
then, at that instant, enjoying in one flash
the swift perception of thy godhead,
thyself shalt be the god.

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