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Home » POETRY » I SIT DOWN PEACEFULLY WITH MY BOOK – Edward James / When soon ideas you begin to see.

I SIT DOWN PEACEFULLY WITH MY BOOK – Edward James / When soon ideas you begin to see.

Medicate me, with a peaceful pile of letters.

When his father died, he inherited a huge property in Sussex. The Prince of Wales reputedly fathered EDWARD JAMES. He was born in West Dean House estate (Sussex), into an August day, 1907. Growing, he become a British poet, best known for his patronage of the surrealist art movement. In the early 1930s, he married an Austrian female dancer, and he had several productions created expressly for her. Four years later, he divorced, accusing her of adultery. He provided practical help Dalí, and allowed Magritte to stay in his London house to paint, in thisway becoming an supporter of Surrealism (a movement that out a world of fantasy and irrationality).

In a subtropical rainforest in the mountains of Mexico, visiting Las Pozas (“near the village of Xilitla, San Luis Potosí), you can admire a great garden created by him: natural waterfalls and pools, interlaced with Surrealist sculptures in concrete. To pay for it, he sold his collection of Surrealist art at auction. In 1964, EDWARD JAMES gave his English estate (which included West Dean House at West Dean), to a charitable trust. He was buried in the St Roche’s Arboretum at West Dean, with a simple inscription. John Skelton carved the stone.

I HAVE SEEN – I have seen such beauty as one man has seldom seen; therefore will I be grateful to die in this little room, surrounded by the forests, the great green gloom of trees my only gloom – and the sound, the sound of green. Here amid the warmth of the rain, what might have been is resolved into the tenderness of a tall doom who says: ‘You did your best, rest’ – and after you, the bloom of what you loved and planted still will whisper what you mean. And the ghosts of the birds I loved will attend me each a friend; like them shall I have flown beyond the realm of words. You, through the trees, shall hear them, long after the end calling me beyond the river. For the cries of birds continue, as – defended by the cortege of their wings – my soul among strange silences yet sings.

The property of the images that appear in this blog correspond to their authors. The sole purpose of this site is to spread the knowledge of these artists and that other people enjoy their works. To pursue this issue, you can digit: https://www.amazon.com/Poems-Edward-James-Reed/dp/1145860036

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