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Editorial: 15 October, 2003
18 januari 2006
{id="2048" title="Yves Bonnefoy"}, a major presence in French poetry since the 1950’s, describes in a sequence from his latest work, Les Planches courbes (The Curved Planks, 2001) dreamlike ‘visits’ to the house where he was born. The paradoxical first line "I woke up, it was the house where I was born" is followed by hallucinatory scenes in which memory and reflection are coloured by vivid, surreal images:
It was raining softly in all the rooms,
I went from one to another, looking at
The water that shone on the mirrors
In these ‘récits en rêve’, Bonnefoy delves for the source of poetry:
Too vast, too luminous the images
That I have gathered in my sleep.
Two grand old men of literature, Yves Bonnefoy and David Malouf, publish work on PIW this week. Both in their own way revisit the place where they were born.
In the second installment of our Poets’ diaries series, Australian poet and writer {id="379" title="David Malouf"} visits his native Brisbane for the Queensland Poetry Festival. He talks about new poets, painting, the Chinese Moon Festival, and the effect of Brisbane on those who grew up there: "New and unexpected views is what you come to look for; it becomes a habit of mind." {id="2048" title="Yves Bonnefoy"}, a major presence in French poetry since the 1950’s, describes in a sequence from his latest work, Les Planches courbes (The Curved Planks, 2001) dreamlike ‘visits’ to the house where he was born. The paradoxical first line "I woke up, it was the house where I was born" is followed by hallucinatory scenes in which memory and reflection are coloured by vivid, surreal images:
It was raining softly in all the rooms,
I went from one to another, looking at
The water that shone on the mirrors
In these ‘récits en rêve’, Bonnefoy delves for the source of poetry:
Too vast, too luminous the images
That I have gathered in my sleep.
© Corine Vloet
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