Edouard Roditi

(6 June 1910 - 10 May 1992 / Paris / France)

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  • Rookie Einar ├ľkland (11/24/2004 10:37:00 AM)

    We met in Belgrade some 20-25 years ago - he an American intepreter, I a Norwegian poet - and talked about ourselves for many hours. Since then he has stayed in my memory as a most unusual poet and person which I was lucky enough to meet. He was very grumpy, not a sweet man at all, but he was very sweet to me. It is only in later times I have tried to read his poetry. Seance seems to me to be a descripton of an imaginary (?) French surrealist painting. What I like about it is the prose form. It saves the poem, although the poem seems a little dated.

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Aurora Borealis

    A crystallization of color spreads from the upper regions of the dark sky towards the trembling nipples of the waves. The feathering fringes of clouds fade behind pillars of green light. Transparent curtains tremble every-where. In the arctic temple, the hidden Samson of light shakes the moon-green pillars of the night.
    Color these crystals with sudden blood; it is dawn, or else the last consumptive saliva of the dying day. Heartless hard light!

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