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251st Virtual Poetry Circle

Welcome to the 251st Virtual Poetry Circle!

Remember, this is just for fun and is not meant to be stressful.

Keep in mind what Molly Peacock’s book suggested.

Look at a line, a stanza, sentences, and images; describe what you like or don’t like; and offer an opinion. If you missed my review of her book, check it out here.

Also, sign up for the 2014 Dive Into Poetry Reading Challenge because there are several levels of participation for your comfort level.

Here’s today’s stop on the 2014 National Poetry Month Blog Tour: Reach for the Horizon

Today’s poem is from New European Poets edited by Wayne Miller and Kevin Prufer:

Walls by Lindita Arapi of Albania (page 126)

And if a wall, long and thick,
A high wall
Should rise in front of you . . . 
What would you do?

I would close my eyes, I would crouch
And rest my cheek against it,
I would find peace in its cool serenity.

And if this wall were death . . .

   -translated from the Albanian by Robert Elsie

What do you think?

This is part of the 2014 National Poetry Month: Reach for the Horizon Blog Tour, click the button for more poetry:

250th Virtual Poetry Circle

Welcome to the 250th Virtual Poetry Circle!

Remember, this is just for fun and is not meant to be stressful.

Keep in mind what Molly Peacock’s book suggested.

Look at a line, a stanza, sentences, and images; describe what you like or don’t like; and offer an opinion. If you missed my review of her book, check it out here.

Also, sign up for the 2014 Dive Into Poetry Reading Challenge because there are several levels of participation for your comfort level.

Click for today’s stop on the 2014 National Poetry Month Blog Tour: Reach for the Horizon

Today’s poem is from New European Poets edited by Wayne Miller and Kevin Prufer:

First Steps by Stefan Hertmans of Belgium (page 302)

He ran into the street without a glance
and I, beginning to be like him more and more,
thought he could make it to the door.

But he turns around, cars racing
along the prom. Now he’s almost there
I’ll never get to him in time.

Just so my father, all his life,
could dream of my hand, as small
and quick, able to slip between bars
into the depths of rock and water.

Life rushes in a blink.
Then I grab him—he unafraid,
His eyes wide open and so calm—

I with that fatal smash
That will never leave
My life and body.

      -translated from the Flemish by Gregory Ball

What do you think?

This is part of the 2014 National Poetry Month: Reach for the Horizon Blog Tour, click the button for more poetry:

249th Virtual Poetry Circle

Welcome to the 249th Virtual Poetry Circle!

Remember, this is just for fun and is not meant to be stressful.

Keep in mind what Molly Peacock’s book suggested.

Look at a line, a stanza, sentences, and images; describe what you like or don’t like; and offer an opinion. If you missed my review of her book, check it out here.

Also, sign up for the 2014 Dive Into Poetry Reading Challenge because there are several levels of participation for your comfort level.

Click for today’s stop on the 2014 National Poetry Month Blog Tour: Reach for the Horizon

Today’s poem is from New European Poets edited by Wayne Miller and Kevin Prufer:

Between Yesterday and Your Mouth by Rosa Alice Branco of Portugal (page 4)

I will spend the night with those days.
With the smile you left in the sheets.
I still burn with the remains of your name
and see with your eyes the things that you touched.
I am here between the bread and table, in the glass
you lift to your mouth. In the mouth that holds me.
And I don't know what I am between yesterday and what will come.
Yesterday I was the river at evening, the gaze that caressed the light.
My son writes on pebbles on the beach and I invent
steps for deciphering them. They all roll far away.
That's how the sea is. I am learning with the waves
to melt away to foam. There is always a seagull
that cries out when I come near, there is always a wing
between the sky and my floor. But nothing belongs to me,
not even the words with which I cement the hours.
Perhaps love is just a small difference in time zones
or a linguistic accord that only exists
deep in the flesh. But here where I am not
what grounds me is the certainty that you exist.

   translated from the Portuguese by Alexis Levitin

What do you think?

This is part of the 2014 National Poetry Month: Reach for the Horizon Blog Tour, click the button for more poetry:

248th Virtual Poetry Circle

Welcome to the 248th Virtual Poetry Circle!

Remember, this is just for fun and is not meant to be stressful.

Keep in mind what Molly Peacock’s book suggested.

Look at a line, a stanza, sentences, and images; describe what you like or don’t like; and offer an opinion. If you missed my review of her book, check it out here.

Also, sign up for the 2014 Dive Into Poetry Reading Challenge because there are several levels of participation for your comfort level.

Visit today’s stop on the 2014 National Poetry Month Blog Tour: Reach for the Horizon

Today’s poem is from New European Poets edited by Wayne Miller and Kevin Prufer:

The Barren Woman by O. Nimigean from Romania (page 82)

the barren woman imagines she's giving birth
she twists in the sheets and heaves herself about
she sprawls spraddling her legs against the wall
she thrusts and convulses
runs rivers of sweat
and calls me by name
she even gives birth to me
only she feels how the unseen crown of my head
bursts out through her sex unreceptive to seed
only she hears me gasp and squall
she gnaws my umbilical cord of shadow
and she fondles my head and body
with eager hands

the barren woman licks her faceless whelp
her skinless heartless cub
only she strokes me and knows me
and suckles me on her nut-like pap
I nurse without a sound
and then let slip the delicate nipple and fall asleep
baring my gums and teeth of mist

   translated from the Romanian by Adam J. Sorkin and Radu Andriescu

What do you think?

This is part of the 2014 National Poetry Month: Reach for the Horizon Blog Tour, click the button for more poetry:

New European Poets edited by Wayne Miller and Kevin Prufer

Welcome to the 2nd day of the National Poetry Month Blog Tour!

I thought that as so much of National Poetry Month seems to focus on classic poets or contemporary U.S. poets, I would review an anthology of contemporary European poets and their poetry. I hope you’ll click the button below to visit with Laura at Book Snob as well.

Source: Public Library
Paperback,
I am an Amazon Affiliate

New European Poets edited and introduced by Wayne Miller and Kevin Prufer is an anthology of European poetry since 1970.  Each poet selected was translated and each poem has the language from which it was translated and the name of the translator below.  Unfortunately, this anthology does not include the poem in its original language, which some readers would prefer as it gives a visual comparison between the texts.  However, the collection does include the short biographies of the poets included, the translators — to which the anthology is dedicated — and the editors, which provides a great reference for finding more of these authors’ works.

Reading through the poems in this collection is like traveling the undulating and varying landscapes of Europe, with climbs through the mountains, sitting in lounges by the seaside, and hunting in the dark forests.  Many of these poems mirror those that are found in American contemporary poetry, but then there are others that are distinctly European in subject matter and style.  In the introduction, the authors talk about the dialogue between poets in American and those in Europe — how poetry informed each style on either side of the Atlantic.  However, that dialogue has mostly stopped, and the authors strive to rekindle that dialogue with this anthology, a real possibility as more reader-poets pick up this volume and begin leafing through it.

From Spain's Luis Garcia Montero's "Poetry"

"Poetry is useless, it serves only
to behead a king
or seduce a young woman." (page 13)

In fact, this collection serves to disprove this early statement in the poetry anthology. Poetry is more than political protest and seduction — it is a connection of the human spirit and an observation of the human condition.  Ranging from the irreverent in “Kiss My Corpse” by Gür Genç of Cyprus to the heartbreaking emptiness of “The Barren Woman” by O. Nimigean of Romania, these poems share a range of emotions that are universal but in a style that is fresh and inviting.

Each poem leaves the reader — more so an American reader — with a sense of understanding and awe and a new way of thinking not only about emotion, life, and living, but also of poetry itself.  New European Poets edited and introduced by Wayne Miller and Kevin Prufer is a collection that should be savored and returned to again and again over time.  Spend a day in one country or two, but visit them often and with an observant eye.

Book 4 for the Dive Into Poetry Reading Challenge 2014.

 

 

14th book for 2014 New Author Challenge.

 

 

 

5th book for 2014 European Reading Challenge; these poems are from a number of different countries, but since the ones that most resonated with me were from Hungary, that’s the country I’m choosing for this one.

This is part of the 2014 National Poetry Month: Reach for the Horizon Blog Tour, click the button for more poetry:

247th Virtual Poetry Circle

Welcome to the 247th Virtual Poetry Circle!

Remember, this is just for fun and is not meant to be stressful.

Keep in mind what Molly Peacock’s book suggested.

Look at a line, a stanza, sentences, and images; describe what you like or don’t like; and offer an opinion. If you missed my review of her book, check it out here.

Also, sign up for the 2014 Dive Into Poetry Reading Challenge because there are several levels of participation for your comfort level.

Signup for the 2014 National Poetry Month Blog Tour: Reach for the Horizon

Today’s poem is from New European Poets edited by Wayne Miller and Kevin Prufer:

Kiss My Corpse by Gür Genç of Cyprus (page 100)

Kiss my corpse. Kiss it, so that azaleas bloom on your lips.
Grimly a guitar plays
A mother goes insane
A father falls to his knees.
I leave you a life, with the smell of powdered baby
I leave you a life, with dripping blood
From the broken bottle that cut through the vein.

Kiss my corpse. Kiss it, so that, between the cradle and the grave
A crazy celebration begins
With the pleasure of memory my flesh changes color
And shrinks
Because I’ve recorded my death with my own camera
And I can show you, naked, in slow motion
With fearful fame
With fame, I can be vile.

Kiss my corpse. Kiss it, so that echoes of blood pass through you
Inherit the peace, as divine revolt is over.
Come on, kiss it, and learn
Why broken poets are always the first to run to their death.

translated from the Turkish by the author with Stephanos Stephanides

What do you think?

Library Loot #11 and Mailbox Monday #238

Library Loot is a weekly event co-hosted by Claire from The Captive Reader and Marg from The Adventures of an Intrepid Reader that encourages bloggers to share the books they’ve checked out from the library. If you’d like to participate, just write up your post-feel free to steal the button-and link it using the Mr. Linky any time during the week. And of course check out what other participants are getting from their libraries.

1.  New European Poets edited by Wayne Miller and Kevin Prufer

New European Poets presents the works of poets from across Europe. In compiling this landmark anthology, Wayne Miller and Kevin Prufer enlisted twenty-four regional editors to select 270 poets whose writing was first published after 1970. These poets represent every country in Europe, and many of them are published here for the first time in English and in the United States. The resulting anthology collects some of the very best work of a new generation of poets who have come of age since Paul Celan, Anna Akhmatova, Federico García Lorca, Eugenio Montale, and Czeslaw Milosz.

The poetry in New European Poets is fiercely intelligent, often irreverent, and engaged with history and politics. The range of styles is exhilarating—from the lyric intimacy of Portuguese poet Rosa Alice Branco to the profane prose poems of Romanian poet Radu Andriescu, from the surrealist bravado of Czech poet Sylva
Fischerová to the survivor’s cry of Russian poet Irina Ratushinskaya. Poetry translated from more than thirty languages is represented, including French, German, Spanish, and Italian, and more regional languages such as Basque, Irish Gaelic, and Sámi.

What have you picked up lately?

Mailbox Monday (click the icon to check out the new blog) has gone on tour since Marcia at To Be Continued, formerly The Printed Page passed the torch.  September’s host is Notorious Spinks Talks.

The meme allows bloggers to share what books they receive in the mail or through other means over the past week.

Just be warned that these posts can increase your TBR piles and wish lists.

Here’s what I purchased:

1.  The Shining by Stephen King, which I purchased from Target because I want to re-read it.

Jack Torrance’s new job at the Overlook Hotel is the perfect chance for a fresh start. As the off-season caretaker at the atmospheric old hotel, he’ll have plenty of time to spend reconnecting with his family and working on his writing. But as the harsh winter weather sets in, the idyllic location feels ever more remote . . . and more sinister. And the only one to notice the strange and terrible forces gathering around the Overlook is Danny Torrance, a uniquely gifted five-year-old.

 

 

2.  Doctor Sleep by Stephen King, which I purchased from Target.

On highways across America, a tribe of people called the True Knot travel in search of sustenance. They look harmless—mostly old, lots of polyester, and married to their RVs. But as Dan Torrance knows, and spunky twelve-year-old Abra Stone learns, the True Knot are quasi-immortal, living off the steam that children with the shining produce when they are slowly tortured to death.

Haunted by the inhabitants of the Overlook Hotel, where he spent one horrific childhood year, Dan has been drifting for decades, desperate to shed his father’s legacy of despair, alcoholism, and violence. Finally, he settles in a New Hampshire town, an AA community that sustains him, and a job at a nursing home where his remnant shining power provides the crucial final comfort to the dying. Aided by a prescient cat, he becomes “Doctor Sleep.”

What did you receive?

221st Virtual Poetry Circle

Welcome to the 221st Virtual Poetry Circle!

Remember, this is just for fun and is not meant to be stressful.

Keep in mind what Molly Peacock’s books suggested. Look at a line, a stanza, sentences, and images; describe what you like or don’t like; and offer an opinion. If you missed my review of her book, check it out here.

Also, sign up for the 2013 Dive Into Poetry Challenge because its simple; you only need to read 1 book of poetry. Check out the stops on the 2013 National Poetry Month Blog Tour and the 2012 National Poetry Month Blog Tour.

Today’s poem is from Rosa Alice Branco (translated from Portuguese by Alexis Levitin):

Between Yesterday and Your Mouth

I will spend the night with those days.
With the smile you left in the sheets.
I still burn with the remains of your name
and see with your eyes the things that you touched.
I am here between the bread and table, in the glass
you lift to your mouth.  In the mouth that holds me.
And I don't know what I am between yesterday and what will come.
Yesterday I was the river at evening, the gaze that caressed the light.
My son writes on pebbles on the beach and I invent
steps for deciphering them.  They all roll far away.
That's how the sea is.  I am learning with the waves
to melt away to foam.  There is always a seagull
that cries out when I come near, there is always a wing
between the sky and my floor.  But nothing belongs to me,
not even the words with which I cement the hours.
Perhaps love is just a small difference in time zones
or a linguistic accord that only exists
deep in the flesh.  But here where I am not
what grounds me is the certainty that you exist.

What do you think?