Full text: The little review (9 (1923), 4)

Little gilded table of fete days 
there are women of green and dark wood 
those who weep; 
of dark and green wood 
those who laugh. 
Little table too low or too high 
there are fat women 
with slight shadows 
there are hollow dresses 
dry dresses 
dresses that one wears at home and that love never makes go out. 
Little table 
I do not like the tables upon which I dance, 
I didn’t realize it.” 
What young people would not wish to murmur this air of 
Jacques Baron? 
“The flower that I love is charming 
like a woman with a tender glance 
flown away like a halo 
what do you know of our loves 
of the week and of the years 
my friend the delicious flower.” 
Have we the right to judge poets and to roll their names about 
in our mouths like chewing gum until the point is reached when 
they will no longer wish to say anything? If I state that the 
greatest quality of Tzara is humour, I should quickly forget his 
varied riches. Indolence makes us list individuals under one 
heading that we call a school; but speaking accurately the indi 
vidual is a complex whole and the childish error must not be 
made of believing that the states of soul of such or such a one 
are always of the same red, green, white or blue, which would 
be like believing that negroes are equally black with identical 

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