I won't doubt the heart-rending task, or major headache, in trans -lating one of the finest poets of this century. And I thank David Rattray, whose translation of Artaud are wonderfully done, for finally introducing such refined spirit as Gilbert-Lecomte to an English-speaking public. The book, as such, is fine: lovely cover-design, explicit introduction, and clever selection of poems. What else is needed? A new translation!

Dark, Surreal Poetry. Written by Roger Gilbert-Lecomte, translated from French. Each page is layed out with the French translation on the left, and the English on the right. The original spacing is kept, which is critical, because the placement of the text adds so much to the flow of the reading. Lecomte was scoffed by surrealists at the time in France. He died from Tetnis, jabbing a opium needle through his dirty trowsers. His close friend gathered what works he could find, and have since come into the collected works remaining of Lecomte.

This is one of the top two must have poetry books of all time hands down. It rests right beside The flowers of evil.