Édouard de Fervières-Lesvériés de la Fourrière

Édouard Fréderique Charles de Fervières-Lesvériés de la Fourrière (born 17 October, 1853 in, ; died 12 May, 1932 in Lanne Gramont, Kerguelen) was a French painter, poet and singer, and is now known as one of the most important artists in the history of the islands preceding the establishment of the Republic of the Southern Indian Ocean Islands.

De Fervières-Lesvériés de la Fourrière is most famous for his paintings Le débarquement des bateaux de pêche à Port-Joffre, dated 1908, and The Summit of Mont Ross, dated 1907, as well as for his last-written poem Édouard the Poet.

Édouard the Poet
Édouard the Poet is de Fervières-Lesvériés de la Fourrière's most famous poem and song.

The full text of the poem is as follows:


 * ''When I was young my mother never saw me
 * ''She always looked either above or right below me
 * ''She never wanted me, she’d always cry
 * ''Then one day she opened the front yard’s gate
 * ''It was at night, in the dark, ‘twas late
 * ''“Leave my house and please just quickly die”


 * ''My name has always been Édouard de Fervières
 * ''Followed by Lesvériés de la Fourrière
 * ''I am undoubtedly a well-respected man
 * ''Everyone here wants to be my friend
 * ''I became famous as I grew older
 * ''My art and poetry grew forever bolder
 * ''“Look at his work, it’s grandiose”, they would say
 * ''“He’s inspiring, he always makes my day!”


 * ''I was alone, thrown out on the street
 * ''No food, no clothes, no shoes on my feet
 * ''My hands and face covered in blood
 * ''For the men, I would be their knife
 * ''I stole, I killed, I gave them all my life
 * ''Just so they could be like God


 * ''I’m Édouard de Fervières-Lesvériés de la Fourrière
 * ''The name of a great artist that makes them all gasp for fresh air
 * ''Wherever I go people greet and bow for me
 * ''As if I am some kind of royalty
 * ''They never see the person beneath the paint
 * ''The person so lonely and so quaint
 * ''For little Edward inside there is now gone
 * ''And I am left here, scarred, scared and alone


 * ''Here I lie, for the last time on my bed
 * ''I can feel it, soon I will be dead
 * ''This will be my last piece of peace
 * ''On my gravestone they will probably praise me
 * ''And the mother who evidently so well raised me
 * ''In golden letters, in a crease:


 * ''“Here lies Edouard, a respected and great man
 * ''Who will paint and write about anything he can
 * ''A great artist with passion from his heart
 * ''A greatness reflected in his art,” oh yes!
 * ''And as I lie next to my dearest other
 * ''All I wish for is for my dead mother
 * ''To say those few words that she never said:
 * ''“Here lies my Eddie, just another lad”