“All around is the city at rest; the illuminated street becomes silent, And decorated with torches, the wagons rush away.” Evening, it is evening, and I am so tired. Sometimes, when I raise my eyes, when I wander lonely through the streets and look...
“What is poetry for in today’s time?” This question is no less valid because it’s asked in a challenging wayby many stupid people or because it’s answered apologetically by so many simpletons. (R. v. Ranke-Graves) These lines bothered me for years now. I have...
