10 autographed POETHS, [1917-1925]; 10 pages in-4 or in-fol.
Set of ten poems written between 1917 and 1925, two of which appear to be unpublished.
The others were published in various collections: Poésies (1917-1920) in 1920, Vocabulaire in 1922 or Poésie 1916-1923 in 1924.
* Pauvre Jean (1 p. in-4), written in black ink on a beautiful sheet of wove paper; published in Poésies 1917-1920. "One succeeds in the trick / Thanks to the tie knot"... * Battery (3 p. in-fol. on laid paper leaves, the first one slightly scorched); published in Poésies 1917-1920. The original title Hymn to the Sun has been crossed out; it is dated at the end "Piquey August 1917". Corrections to some lines: "Sun I adore you like the savages
Flat on the shore"... * Tomb of the dog of Alcibiade (1 p. in-fol.
on fine paper, edges a little damaged), published in Vocabulaire: "More than one who in the dark boat"... Following the two quatrains, list of five "Tombeaux".
* Tomb of Narcissus. Tomb of Don Juan. Tomb of Socrates. These three poems, published in Vocabulaire, are written on the same sheet (1 p. in-fol.), with numerous erasures and corrections.
* Rome by night] (1 p. in-fol. on fine paper, split). Extensively corrected working manuscript of this poem discarded from Vocabulaire (OEuvres poétiques complètes, Pléiade, p. 342).
"And who proves me that you are not
Not an angel in disguise
Not a diamond thief?"... * Ode to tobacco (1 p. in-4), published with important variants in Poésies 1916- 1923 under the title Ode to the pipe in Discourses of the great sleep. The manuscript, on two columns, is abundantly crossed out and corrected.
"So that escapes from the pyre
Of Venus the soft doves Our blue soldiers, the mad virgins Know not to frighten it.
At the time is posed with their bent front
Of his ribbons many a halo"...
* London (1 p. in-4), poem of 18 lines, apparently unpublished, with erasures and corrections.
"Your ingenuity puts a knee in the ground
Ewe of golden fleece, wool of England!"... * "I have all the muses"... (1 p. in-4). Prose poem, with erasures and corrections, apparently unpublished. "I have all the muses.
I won he says. The poor player became a pole.
He had risked all his fortune, his pearl pin, his honor. The angel did not even show his cards. In the casino he was taken at his word. The player would have liked to see how the muses were made. The angel laughed cruelly. He lit a cigar, shuffled the deck. He wore the red rose of crime in his buttonhole. It was, if I am not mistaken, the kind Oscar Wilde, Arsène Lupin, Monte Cristo"...
Provenance : Carole WEISWEILLER.