A few Eluard translations:

Toillette

She went in her little bedroom to change, while her kettle sang. An air current from the window slammed the door behind her. A short second, she polished her strange, white, erect nakedness. Then she slipped into a widow's dress


Eyes

My eyes, patient objects, were forever open over the expanse of the seas where I was drowning. Finally white foam passed over the fleeing black point. Everything was erased.

***

Read Cole Swenson's "Noon" yesterday, for the first time. 9 sections of 9 poems each. One is extraordinary ("Bestiary"). "Water, Water" is also very good. There are no weak sections, just ones that I find less compelling, perhaps too strained and abstract, too "French," though I'm sure I would like them in a different mood.