REVERDY Pierre [Narbonne, 1889 - Solesmes, 1960], poète fran - Lot 437

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  3. REVERDY Pierre [Narbonne, 1889 - Solesmes, 1960], poète fran - Lot 437
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Lot n° 437
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Estimation :
3000 - 6000 EUR
REVERDY Pierre [Narbonne, 1889 - Solesmes, 1960], poète fran - Lot 437
REVERDY Pierre [Narbonne, 1889 - Solesmes, 1960], poète français associé au cubisme et aux débuts du surréalisme Set of 10 pages with 4 signed autograph poems. - "Subjects." 2 pages in-4°. "Enough singing of the nights and the sun Enough singing of the tricks and tunes of yesteryear"... - "Time and me." 1 page in-4°. "In the innermost basement of my distress Where vice has been given the death quench I set the tone for the record The Refrain of Life"... - "At dawn the watchman". 2 pages in-4°. "This morning when the hope that had not yet emerged from the shadows polished the sun This morning at the most secret kisses of dawn on the lip of the horizon I wished to take back to the sound of the tone the life that shuddered in a brutal turmoil. To find the reason that slid under the trees towards the holes of light that would scatter my limbs This morning Before the lungs of the world came out of the too high fever of the night The breath that came out of the lips of the earth The perfume of the worrying woods and bodies The intermittent pulsations The too fast current of the arteries" ... AUTOGRAPHIES - "Business Sense". 1 page in-4°. "Work in safety All art in severity Beauty frozen in the bark More than gold in freedom With the feints of strength Against the current of offerings The dryness of desire The shyness of almonds Just with the look without brake The gesture in the shadow of a hand" ... - "Secret funds". 4 pages in-4°. "No, It is no longer the rostrum of the horizon where hands speak And black hunger has gone round all the rocks In the poorly furnished lairs against the light On the barely healed facade When the resin of marigolds drips From sorrow to life and from the grave to the light Under the palms of the clearing with covered fires Time lost without a detour at every elbow If you have to pick these memories like flowers In the pool of the forests In the breath of the colorless roads When it's too cool
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