Vladimír Holan He was a Czech poet born in Prague on September 16, 1905. He is considered one of the most important authors of the 20th century in his country. To commemorate this new anniversary of his birth we selected some featured poems (and brief) of his work.
Vladimír Holan
His life was closely linked to the dark events of his time, as he grew up in a country that was not internationally recognized and lived the Second World War and the subsequent Soviet occupation. These experiences marked his work, in which he stands out el sombre tone and melancholy.
He used a language rich in images and metaphors and mainly explored existential themes, among which loneliness, anguish and the search for meaning in a world at war stand out. He also suffered from censorship of the communist regime after the end of the world conflict, but its reputation increased in hiding and, after the fall of communism, he was rediscovered and recognized as one of the great poets of his generation.
Among his works are A night with Hamlet, In the last trance o Abyss of abyss, his last posthumous book.
Vladimír Holan — Selection of poems
Hay
There are destinations
where that which lacks tremor is not solid.
There are loves
in which the world is not enough for you, one little step is missing.
There are pleasures
in which you punish yourself for art, because art is a sin.
There are moments of silence
in which the woman's mouth makes one think that modesty is only
question of sex.
There are hairs dyed by a meteor
where it is the devil who draws the line.
There are lonelinesses
in which you look with only one eye and you only see salt.
There are cold moments
where you strangle pigeons and warm yourself with their wings.
There are moments of gravity
in which you feel that you have already fallen among those who fall.
There are silences
that you must express them, precisely you!
Eva
It was when the new wine… Autumn
had already woven the wicker around the bottles,
and the snake, not on top of the stone, but under the heather,
He lay on his stomach, covering himself with his back.
"Beauty destroys love, love destroys beauty," he told me.
and just as in ancient times sacrifices were made to the goddesses of
here and there
an odd number of victims,
She thought then only of herself,
imagining with indifference
eternity without immortality…
She was so beautiful that if someone had asked me
Where had he gone with her, he would certainly not have spoken
of landscapes
(unless he felt the impotence of words
and that only made it possible to spell silence
the rain that falls on the prisons).
She was so beautiful that I wanted
live again, but in a different way.
She was so beautiful that in the depths of my delirious love
all the madness was still waiting for me in its entirety…
Sleepless night
I was alone, completely alone,
Even my night's sleep had abandoned me…
Suddenly I thought I heard not words but sounds,
some sounds always in three sighs
Like wind and flour…
"What could that be? There's no time to lose!"
I muttered, straightening my hair with a gulp of wine.
I stood up and, naked, felt around in the darkness
and a moment later the black fever of my hand
I opened the wardrobe… Inside the clothes the moths were stirring…
I am more mortal than my body…
Autumn III
Field on four furrows… Border… Meadow… Pond…
Thrushes in the rowan trees…
A spider weaves a web again…
Pleasant day, expelled from reason
to the heart of autumn… The wind has turned purple…
The column of mosquitoes carries the bust of the dance…
Pain and sorrow, memories and longings…
Would you like to be young again, to live it all over again?
Through the shadows near and far you can hear,
how in the village they cover the ossuary with a metal sheet...
Grief
They say that sorrow is silent…
And yet the majority, even the taciturn ones,
They long to confess, to complain, they long to grumble.
You listened to them, you suffered with them,
but in order to always venerate the secret:
you looked for sudden inspiration
which is usually precise, never completely explicit…
Faithful, you couldn't be personal...
However, you never revealed either
the feelings of those who remained silent on the matter…
One day in the morning
One morning, when I opened the door,
you found the dancing shoes on the threshold.
It was time to kiss them and you did it right away.
and you felt joy again after so many years,
All the long-held tears
ascended to your laughter.
Then you laughed and from the bottom of your heart you began to sing
with the tranquility of youth…
You didn't ask how beautiful
He left his shoes on the threshold.
You never found out
and yet, from that happy moment
you still live frequently…
Source: To half voice