poetry and spring in paris: the tenth edition of "printemps des poètes" takes place in my adopted hometown of paris, france from march 3rd through the 16th. this literary festival is dedicated to the diffusion of poetry and seeks to spread the word to as many people as possible--how grand is that! journalist claudia tani, writing in the fab blog, moleskinecity, writes:
"generally speaking poetry is always closed in restricted clichés, that does nothing but limit its fundamental role in art. thus it's often connected only to a formal, external aspect, easily recognizable. the rhyme for instance. but poetry is exactly the opposite. it cannot be 'locked' in a shape, because it undergoes a perpetual metamorphosis. of course it works the form of language, searching for a new one. it's a workshop of linguistic activity where a text is continuously recreated.
rilke said: 'poetry is the place of an experience'. it's the experience of our relation to the world. because poetry represents our appearance, our external identity, but also our inner life, our yearnings, our memory, our worries.
every year the organizers of the festival select a specific theme and invite poets and writers to write unpublished poems on it. this year edition is dedicated to the theme of the 'other'. as jean-pierre siméon, artistic director of the festival, says: 'poetry reveals the following basic truth: all that appears 'other', 'foreign' and 'far away' to us is really a part of our own mystery. if the language of poetry disorients us, it is so that this other, he who surrounds us and that lives inside of us, is made more desirable. rimbaud said 'je est un autre'. every poem that addresses the other is an invitation, like andrée chedid suggests, to get out of our 'étroite peau' and give ourselves over to la rencontre (the encounter), and to sharing of our differences. this communion is indeed the only thing that gives meaning to the human community."
--excerpted from the article by claudia tani, at
moleskinecity
"it is the first mild day of march:
each minute sweeter than before,
the redbreast sings from the tall larch
that stands beside our door."
--william wordsworth
i did see a beautiful robin perching on an evergreen branch in my backyard this morning while i was having my breakfast--a good omen--and i walked outside to feel a welcome gust of warm, sweet spring air! the thought that the vernal equinox is only nine days away is really cheering me. bring on the shamrocks and seeds!
