True Life Is Elsewhere

For A Long Time I Found The Celebrities Of Modern Painting And Poetry Ridiculous. I Loved Absurd Pictures, Fanlights, Stage Scenery, Mountebanks Backcloths, Inn-signs, Cheap Colored Prints; Unfashionable Literature, Church Latin, Pornographic Books Badly Spelt, Grandmothers Novels, Fairy Stories, Little Books For Children, Old Operas, Empty Refrains, Simple Rhythms.

It Is Wrong To Say: I Think. One Ought To Say: I Am Thought. I Is Someone Else.

Eternity Is The Sun Mixed With The Sea

Then You'll Feel Your Cheek Scratched... A Little Kiss, Like A Crazy Spider, Will Run Round Your Neck... And You'll Say To Me : "find It !" Bending Your Head - And We'll Take A Long Time To Find That Creature - Which Travels A Lot.

...these Poets Here, You See, They Are Not Of This World:let Them Live Their Strange Life; Let Them Be Cold And Hungry, Let Them Run, Love And Sing: They Are As Rich As Jacques Coeur, All These Silly Children, For They Have Their Souls Full Of Rhymes, Rhymes Which Laugh And Cry, Which Make Us Laugh Or Cry: Let Them Live: God Blesses All The Merciful: And The World Blesses The Poets.