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Lorand Gaspar’s Followers (4)
Lorand Gaspar
Born
in Târgu Mureş, Romania
February 28, 1925
Died
October 09, 2019
Website
Genre
|
Égée, Judée
—
published
1980
—
2 editions
|
|
|
Sol Absolu Le Quat Eta (Poesie/Gallimard)
—
published
1982
|
|
|
Patmos et autres poèmes
—
published
2001
—
3 editions
|
|
|
The Word at Hand: With a Selection of Poems
by
—
published
1995
—
4 editions
|
|
|
Derrière le dos de dieu
—
published
2010
—
4 editions
|
|
|
Earth Absolute & Other Texts
by |
|
|
Arabie heureuse et autres Journaux de voyages
—
published
1997
|
|
|
Corps corrosifs
—
published
1978
|
|
|
Gisements
—
published
1968
|
|
|
Feuilles d'observation
|
|
“A mon sens, dans ma façon de « voir », de « comprendre », l’image, la vision que propose ma photo, ne veut surtout rien « garder », seulement proposer un sentiment de découverte, d’approfondissement soudain, de perception de ce que j’appelle ouverture, de clarté qu’on pourrait dire intuitive.”
―
―
“scattered cracking sounds
bristling gaps in the wood
every now and then the red mark
of a gunshot splinters
of a language forgotten or, who knows,
in a state of shards, bursting
leaps, uproars and stellar
winds or the simple
rubbing together of our silences
if they too should suddenly catch fire
these flames, are they like a dance
seeking in the night its roots
felt and lived the whole length of a life
the night outside is white,
in the hearth, ardent and fragile
beating of the embers of our lives —
from "Nuits”
―
bristling gaps in the wood
every now and then the red mark
of a gunshot splinters
of a language forgotten or, who knows,
in a state of shards, bursting
leaps, uproars and stellar
winds or the simple
rubbing together of our silences
if they too should suddenly catch fire
these flames, are they like a dance
seeking in the night its roots
felt and lived the whole length of a life
the night outside is white,
in the hearth, ardent and fragile
beating of the embers of our lives —
from "Nuits”
―
“the air veined with balancings
in the rootless spaces where endless
worlds are formed and dissolve
snow duvet dancing in the night
beating in the heart’s ear
of a language so close to being here —
memory of snow on the skin
melted flakes of past images
edgeless night on the edge of memory
clouds assemble and dilate
the straw thrown into the light
bright plovers turning under the wind
I listen again to what ear throat
fingers and brain extract in a moment
from the endless flowing stream of things
a water that transports friable words
which we pass from hand to hand
from mouth to ear, bits of mourning and clarity —
low voices and the footsteps become clear
the embers of a life roll on without brakes
red of a morning, of another sunset
in the gorges, on the broken stonefields
someone within me listens relentlessly
to the inaudible beating in things.
from " Nuits”
―
in the rootless spaces where endless
worlds are formed and dissolve
snow duvet dancing in the night
beating in the heart’s ear
of a language so close to being here —
memory of snow on the skin
melted flakes of past images
edgeless night on the edge of memory
clouds assemble and dilate
the straw thrown into the light
bright plovers turning under the wind
I listen again to what ear throat
fingers and brain extract in a moment
from the endless flowing stream of things
a water that transports friable words
which we pass from hand to hand
from mouth to ear, bits of mourning and clarity —
low voices and the footsteps become clear
the embers of a life roll on without brakes
red of a morning, of another sunset
in the gorges, on the broken stonefields
someone within me listens relentlessly
to the inaudible beating in things.
from " Nuits”
―
