Ground

Idwer de la Parra

November rustles where the bird looks. / My memory also keeps rustling. / Seeing my daughter, that is not possible now. / Tile this failed nesting area.

In compelling, intense verse, Idwer de la Parra writes about love, fatherhood and farewell, about the impossibility of leaving things behind. His accessible narrative voice evokes an unsought and completely private world. It can be harsh and full of misfortune, because 'of words you can make knives, / Of long silence sharpening steel', but as soon as the gaze is turned to nature, a milder tone is heard in Grond. You cannot escape mass, movement, the star Antares and the night like coffee grounds.