ABSTRACT
Armen Lubin was a sort of burglar because he lurked in places where most poets fear to tread: not only seedy hotels, obscure side streets and cheap restaurants with sawdust on the floor, but also hospitals, tuberculosis sanatoriums, and convalescent homes. Lubin's poetry provides thought-provoking views of human frailty more than it belabors the suffering and hopelessness that he knew so intimately. Lubin's work often relates decisive moments when a human being must choose between fragile hopes and utter pessimism in regard to struggling on with life. Les Hautes Terrasses comprises his most intriguing philosophical poem, "Sans rien autour." The poet depicts himself as hanging from the frame as it rushes through space, and he claims to be "its most useless tear." For this haunting visionary poem alone, Lubin deserves a place in any anthology of modern French poetry.
