Amusement on Apollinaire

I have read the French poet Apollinaire (who also wrote in Latin) only in samples, but the samples I have seen gave a stark impression; It is not that I wanted to rush to judgment, so I continued to read, and more often than not the words seemed to refer to love of some description, which seemed like a dangerous subject.

At first my mistake was to compare Apollinaire with Voltaire---I had seen another book of poems or critiques on the same shelf by him---ultimately, however, the subject was distinguished not be its acerbity, but by its reference to love. As such I was forced to make some conclusion about love, in order to make some conclusion about the works of this person.

Apollinaire showed a peculiar bitterness or pique which didn't explain that he had chosen love as his subject; In one poem he seems to persuade the reader that he is writing to a prostitute, with hidden arguments that he is in some way not quixotic or stupid; In this sense the reflection is a simple pallor of lust or bragadashio which could be interpreted in turns as wise or naive;

My final conclusion of this triste with words was to conclude that Apollanaire was in a battle with the winter, or even that the winter was having trouble with him; There was no reason to believe that love itself had imposed itself on the battle; Love was only a temperature control for some sort of redundancy of the gods::