these days I have been reading three volumes poetry, each more fascinating. The Greek poet Kiki Dimulá published under the title Symbols soluble an anthology of his work in Poetry Linteo . verses clear, categorical, are preceded by a presentation of Juan Antonio González Iglesias, classical scholar and one of the most interesting current English poets. Neither knew anything Ewa Lipska, Polish poet of the last of the two generations of Poles in the twentieth century. Lipska was born in Krakow in 1945 and firmly rooted in the present century. His poetry seems to me that is a radical and courage he had not seen even in Baranczak or Zagajewski. Newton Orange, Trea edited, contains two books: Splinter and Newton Orange. Both splendid, sharp, somewhat haughty in manner of speaking. Self-critical to the cruelty. But what insights, bursts of light and wind blowing through your pages. An example. ENVY called "Do not tell me everything / what they say your eyes / / Let's drink gin and martini / with a slice of lemon / / Mi keeper fell ill while on duty / on this night / in your hand stroking the dog / / But I know / that it was not that. "Finally Andreu Vidal, Bones sun. cult poet, translator of Celan , goldsmith of a work largely unattended. The Cubic Ediciones de la Rosa, that has given us so much joy, so now being translated into Castilian, keeping the original version in Catalan. It's just a sample of poems and aphorisms, how much they must have precedent in Castilian. I'd go with an aphorism poematic attesting his temper and hit me like a hammer in the middle of the face: "The god of my childhood was a household god, next, so homespun that ended going completely unnoticed." PS The photo is taken at the antiquarian bookstore Umberto Saba, near the port of Trieste .
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