Dominic Ambrose Blogblot

of words: narrative, film and non-fiction

Chiara De Luca, The Corolla of Memory/La corolla del ricordo, translated by Eileen Sullivan

Poetry is not an easy thing, you need to find a quiet place inside you and you must plant your feet solidly on the ground, but lightly, so that your head can rise, and float away. I find that place rarely, but when I do it is a delicious treat.

Edizioni Kolibris




This is a poetry of lyrical grace that casts a spare and flickering light on human suffering. It is a poetry that maintains a surface beauty, like trees in blossom, but goes on to produce a fruit of extraordinary taste and validity. There is a gravity to both thought and language that teeters always on the brink of sorrow; it is the cry of a hurt, furred animal. Poetry here is redemption; the music of Chiara’s language, the delicate movements of the verse-rhythms, the sense of a faith under stress that emerges from the constraint of phrase and enjambement — all speaks a poetry from the heart of our times, a soul in poetry that belongs “to everyone and no one at all”. It is moving and beautiful work and beauty, as an old poet once wrote, must be “in no way cherry blossom”.

John F. Deane




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July 4, 2015 - Posted by | Uncategorized

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