Aimé Césaire Quotes

“the forest remembers that the last word can only be
the flaming cry of the bird of ruins in the bowl of the storm”
― Aimé Césaire

“your face
like a village asleep at the bottom of a lake
which is reborn to daylight from the grass and from the year
germinates”
― Aimé Césaire

“measured by the clock click of the serpent-minute
the explosion
after which it is proper to appreciate that
the brutal fist of the terrorist crack of dawn has just
planted at the top of the most forgotten poui
its adornment of fire
its dolmen of blood
its flag of rage and renewal”
― Aimé Césaire

“the thick stream of air hauled toward the summits
first the great horses of noise reared against the sky
then sluggishly the great limp octopus of smoke
a derisory spitter injecting the night with
the insolent perfume of a citronella lamp
and a wind swept down on the islands
to be riddled by the suspect violence of the locusts . . .”
― Aimé Césaire