Except for this mirage No hugs for you..
But what happened..?! From the wind you come To the wind you walk Stranger like a fugitive grain of sand.
Loneliness: Poems from Exile - Kindle edition by David Hewitt, Sarah Hart. Download it once and read it on your Kindle device, PC, phones or tablets. [READ ONLINE] Loneliness: Poems from Exile by David Hewitt, Sarah Hart. Book file PDF easily for everyone and every device. You can download and read.
Is it that you will remain alone In the wind you grow And in the wind you suffer Fugitive like a rhyme in a poem And what happened..?! From the wind you come To the wind you walk Is it really that you will remain lonely..?! In the wind you grow With the wind you suffer..?! And remain alone..?!
And suffer alone..?! And suffer … And remain … Lonely.. And suffer And remain Lonely As you are..?! Me gusta: Me gusta Cargando The apparent cause was a heart attack, her husband, Maurice Edwards, said. A prominent writer and translator in Romania before she was forced to seek asylum in , Ms.
Cassian had since become well known in the West. Her poems — some translated to English; other, more recent ones composed in English — have appeared in The New Yorker, The Atlantic Monthly and elsewhere. Intense, passionate and cleareyed, Ms. But Ms. Her father was a noted translator who rendered into Romanian the work of writers in German and English, including Edgar Allan Poe. As a teenager she joined a Communist youth organization: Communism, she felt, offered a more salubrious alternative to fascism. Trained as a pianist from the time she was very young, Ms.
For the next few years, Ms. It has been used for thousands of years without interruption, innumerable classical master pieces demonstrate that it has evolved its own mode of thought and its own conceptual apparatus. But does it have any meaning for human experiences in the contemporary world? I mean that not only can it open the door to already existing contemporary human consciousness but it may also evolve new forms of contemporary human consciousness.
Exile is international but must also be manifested in this particular language. If my pre poems are characterized in terms of misty use of the Chinese language, then my writings in exile can be said to reflect awareness of the specific "Chineseness" of the Chinese language.
Differing from European languages, which seek to capture the concrete, Chinese is abstract from the beginning.
here Pronouns can be left out and there are neither tenses nor numerus. Therefore, what sentences in Chinese describe is not "movements" but "situations". When Wang Wei said, "walk right on to the head of a stream, sit and watch when clouds come up", who is walking, and who is watching and who is not walking and watching? The "walkers" and the "watchers" have always been implied.
I call Chinese a "synchronic language", in order to distinguish it from the diachronic European languages. To write is to abolish the time and the writer. So how can "my loneliness" not be "several coincidental lonelinesses"?
Does not my drifting lead to a historical dead end? Nothing else, only masks are floating on the empty non-existent river of time. Here, as for text and reality, which is the illusion of the other? Or are they both illusions facing each other?
If I give up the specific linguistic Chineseness there is almost no way for me to describe the kind of poetics which is exceedingly important to me. Texts examine callously and closely how life dissolves minute by minute, second by second.
In exile the human predicament becomes particularly clear. Writing in exile I have no wish to set up another trademark of "exoticism" in the supermarket of "political correctness" and "identity games". No, to use the oriental's concept of space as a cheap substitute for the Western concept of time is only another way of losing oneself. Poetry requires the poet's individual concepts of time and space. I emphasize the importance of setting up a "poetic space", thereby abolishing and transcending time by means of continued enrichment of the poetic form: the beauty of the forms should be manifest on all levels, from the visual character and the images of the Chinese script to the sense of space inherent in the sentence structure.
Both in terms of the individual and the Chineseness we should go beyond the prevailing "you are not here" and resurrect the demolished notion "we are all here". Using a structure of four themes and four sections, I united the "four places" into "one place" - "now is furthest away" - and four progressing levels. Until the time flow disappears, it flows forward into the form of a poem; and what language form demonstrates is nothing but our absence.
In a certain sense I am even happy to call myself a formalist. What is literature if not form? But the anti-intellectualism of the Communist Party led to collective mental debilitation and turned literature into ruins. I have no intention of copying models translations as models of my own writings even if that would be in accordance with the law of the survival of the fittest , but to open up, deliberately, a distance between each work.
I am awaiting the day when my Return of the Exile will appear as a numbered series of poetic works, with no need to date when they were written, only caring about their internal relationship, and thus constitute one definitive work. A small tradition of my own: Penetrating my "physical" being to reach the "metaphysical" realm. Only poetry is that cliff outside the city of Sydney, constantly growing. Let me say: "This shore is where we see ourselves set sail.