"love, which is prescience of the invisible"
But poetry is, precisely, not a “use” of language. Perhaps, it is a madness in the language, which we can understand only through its eyes of madness—only through poetry’s way of understanding and taking hold of words.
This, I believe, is what initiates poetry. If I say “fire,” poetically what this word evokes for me is not only fire in its nature as fire—what there is about fire that suggests its concept—but the presence of fire in the horizon of my life, and certainly not as an object, analyzable and usable (and, therefore, finite, replaceable), but as a god, active and endowed with powers.
--Yves Bonnefoy
“French Poetry and the Principle of Identity”
This, I believe, is what initiates poetry. If I say “fire,” poetically what this word evokes for me is not only fire in its nature as fire—what there is about fire that suggests its concept—but the presence of fire in the horizon of my life, and certainly not as an object, analyzable and usable (and, therefore, finite, replaceable), but as a god, active and endowed with powers.
--Yves Bonnefoy
“French Poetry and the Principle of Identity”
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