Poem by Paul Eluard

The woman gently calms an angry man
Who refuses to sleep or dream, but only to know,
And who won’t accept to die
without having loved everything.
A small, patient woman—you soothe that man,
And drive him mad by the will of your flesh.
You weigh upon his heart and lighten his body.
In the terrible darkness, you make him still.
He lives without a future.