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An enormous fig tree let fall its flat leaves and its lilac coloured fruit like a carpet over the balustrade. On the left the park was massed with it… - Pierre Louÿs
" "An enormous fig tree let fall its flat leaves and its lilac coloured fruit like a carpet over the balustrade. On the left the park was massed with its magnolias which had already lost their flowers, its shuddering eucalyptus, its squat Japanese palms, its magnificent lunar sago trees. A hedge of aloes hemmed in the dark garden and the plain stretched beyond, to the Stars.
English
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About Pierre Louÿs
Pierre-Félix Louÿs (10 December 1870 – 4 June 1925) was a French poet and writer, most renowned for lesbian and classical themes in some of his writings. He is known as a writer who sought to "express pagan sensuality with stylistic perfection". He was made first a Chevalier and then an Officer of the Légion d'honneur for his contributions to French literature.
Also Known As
Alternative Names:
Pierre Louis
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Pierre Louys
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Pierre Chrysis
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Peter Lewys
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Chibrac
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Pierre Félix Louis
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Additional quotes by Pierre Louÿs
She lay upon her bosom, with her elbows in front of her, her legs wide apart and her cheek resting on her hand, pricking, with a long golden pin, small symmetrical holes in a pillow of green linen.Languid with too much sleep, she had remained alone upon the disordered bed ever since she had awakened, two hours after mid-day.The great waves of her hair, her only garment, covered one of her sides.This hair was resplendently opaque, soft as fur, longer than a bird’s wing, supple, uncountable, full of life and warmth. It covered half her back, flowed under her naked belly, glittered under her knees in thick, curling clusters. The young woman was enwrapped in this precious fleece. It glinted with a russet sheen, almost metallic, and had procured her the name of Chrysis, given her by the courtesans of Alexandria.It was not the sleek hair of the court-woman from Syria, or the dyed hair of the Asiatics, or the black and brown hair of the daughters of Egypt. It was the hair of an Aryan race, the Galilæans across the sands.
I will leave the bed as she has left it, unmade and rumpled, the covers wrinkled, in order that the imprint of her form may remain by the side of mine.Until to-morrow I will not go to the bath, I will not wear my clothing, and I will not comb my hair, for fear lest I efface one of her caresses.I will eat neither this morning nor this evening, and upon my lips I will put neither rouge nor powder, in order that her kisses may remain.I will leave the shades closed, and I will not open the door, for fear lest the memory she has left behind should fly away on the wind.
From the mouth of a satyr with extravagant ears, the water fell into a natural basin of red earth and green vegetation where oleanders had taken root in compact masses. It was by no means the musty and slimy basin of our gardens where the useless spring soaks an earth already soft with rain. It was a birth of flowers in the purple soil of the Midi, a fountain of strength, a creative urn whence life streamed in verdant motion, and the old satyr, son of Pan, watched the youth of the woods fall eternally from his lips.Above the grotesque horned head which the fair Aline took to be the devil, two marble nymphs embraced, leaning towards the dark basin. At the end of each winter, the almond tree covered them with its little eglantines. In the summer they took on all the flesh tints under the sun. At night they became goddesses.
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