Bartomeu Fiol

Bartomeu Fiol Poems

For Salvador Espriu
Though we are still fearful and don't amount to much
thus knowing we are so susceptible
and are strangely incapable
...

The wile of the device where artifice survives
can be considerable - and respectable.
But here, every ploughing
...

‘Lucid but dislocated',
the most suitable epitaph.
‘You have disturbed my tongue,
you have stopped the flow', you could add.
...

De aquí no se va nadie
LEON FELIPE

We shall not move from here - as you very well know -
on this shore close together, leaning into the blustery wind,
...

Keinen verderben zu lassen, auch nicht sich selber
BERTOLT BRECHT

They are not so difficult these bumpy brows of ours
nor so difficult a dog to console, with ringworm and all.
...

To my wife

Rustically solemn or in rustic laughter
Lifting heavy feet in clumsy shoes.
T.S. Eliot, East Coker
...

Poet for the hell of it, never so well said
-clear and Catalan: poet to disturb-,
poet for the surly delight of truth
...

Bartomeu Fiol Biography

Bartomeu Fiol (1933) has a degree in Political Science. He has worked in the hotel and catering business, as a bookseller and cultural promoter. He was president of the cultural association Obra Cultural Balear (1990 – 1992), and has published numerous opinion pieces in the press. His poetry has figured prominently on the Catalan poetry scene in the Balearic Islands since the publication of his first book Calaloscans (Dogcove, 1966).)

The Best Poem Of Bartomeu Fiol

Thought we are still Fearful

For Salvador Espriu
Though we are still fearful and don't amount to much
thus knowing we are so susceptible
and are strangely incapable
of correcting ourselves as we ought,

it shouldn't make us afraid
to come to silence,
not afraid at all
to remain in silence,
decent like a stone or animal.

Savage and at once imprisoned, the word
is much more dangerous.
Like a ravishing girl
it makes us turn the corner, lose the thread.

We don't have to try to pronounce the truth,
give lessons, read the good news,
or statistics recite, well-informed
or, like someone who's triumphed in advance,
opine on the therapy, point by point.

From the pulpit we come down forever more.
Of the lectern splinters we make.
The deafening loudspeakers we've dismantled.
If need be, we'll use the language of hands.

No, we don't have to be afraid
to enter into silence.
Its house has more rooms
than our dishevelled speech.

Translated by Julie Wark

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