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Guillevic Excerpts
What I think I don’t know,What I don’t remember, Is most oftenWhat I write in my poems. * The poem: A containerFinding its form As little by littleIt is filled. * I don’t knowWhether I’ll be understood, I don’t even knowWhether I’ll understand myself. I carry onWeighing up the apple. * You’ll not be the rose,It won’t be you, But between you there isWhat you have in common, Knowing how to liveAnd knowing how to share. —Guillevic, from Art Poétique(tr.Read More
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Time Concentrating On Itself
I have little to say about Guillevic’s The Sea & Other Poems (translated by Patricia Terry, introduction by Monique Chefdor, foreword by the poet’s daughter Lucie Albertini Guillevic) except: Buy it. Buy it now. This is a desert island book. I feel bound to quote from it, but nothing as brief as I have time for can do justice to Guillevic’s extended sequences in which menhirs, a canal, salt flats, and the sea speak.Read More