Read more
Zusatztext "The range of Charles Simic's imagination is evident in his stunning and unusual imagery. He handles language with the skill of a master craftsman, yet his poems are easily accessible, often meditative and surprising. He has given us a rich body of highly organized poetry with shades of darkness and flashes of ironic humor." --James H. Billington, Librarian of Congress "[Simic] draws on the dark satire of Central Europe, the sensual rhapsody of Latin America, and the fraught juxtapositions of French Surrealism, to create a style like nothing else in American literature. Yet [his] verse remains recognizably American--not just in its grainy, hard-boiled textures, straight out of 1940s film noir, but in the very confidence of its eclecticism." --Adam Kirsch, New York Sun Informationen zum Autor Charles Simic was a poet, essayist, and translator who was born in Yugoslavia in 1938 and immigrated to the United States in 1954. He published more than twenty books of poetry, in addition to a memoir and numerous books of translations for which he received many honors, including the Pulitzer Prize, the Zbigniew Herbert International Literary Award, the Griffin Poetry Prize, a MacArthur Fellowship, and the Wallace Stevens Award. In 2007, he served as poet laureate of the United States. He was a distinguished visiting writer at New York University and professor emeritus at the University of New Hampshire, where he taught since 1973. He died in January 2023 at the age of eighty-four. Klappentext To celebrate Simics appointment as the15th Poet Laureate of the United States! 60 of his best-known poems are collected in this work. Leseprobe From Unending Blues , 1986 toward nightfall for Don and Jane The weight of tragic events On everyone’s back, Just as tragedy In the proper Greek sense Was thought impossible To compose in our day. There were scaffolds, Makeshift stages, Puny figures on them, Like small indistinct animals Caught in the headlights Crossing the road way ahead, In the gray twilight That went on hesitating On the verge of a huge Starless autumn night. One could’ve been in The back of an open truck Hunkering because of The speed and chill. One could’ve been walking With a sidelong glance At th...
