Poetry

Désâmé by Patrice Desbiens

By Patrice Desbiens

« Désâmé », c’est du Desbiens typique et classique. Un lecteur familier y retrouvera des effets vus ailleurs, assonances, comparaisons, buildings syntaxiques en parallèle, mots fétiches même.

L’originalité de ce recueil réside dans los angeles nuance nouvelle des thèmes et photos obsédants. Une originalité troublante de vérité. Mine de rien, parmi d’autres thèmes, celui de l. a. mort qui s’y profile, et los angeles sienne entrevue de bien plus près qu’avant. À ce thème s’allie, un peu plus appuyée, sa pratique de l. a. poésie : rapports entre le poète et l. a. poésie, entre le poème et l. a. gangue de vie dont il s’extrait.

« Ce titre, Désâmé, indique en tous cas assez clairement que l’expérience de désenchantement et de désœuvrement (de déréliction ?) qui suscite le poème touche aux fibres de l’être. Peut-être davantage, ici, que dans ses précédents opus, cette expérience en est une d’écriture, Desbiens élaborant dans l. a. première partie de son livre, judicieusement intitulée « Italiques », un paintings poétique aussi humble que malicieux, aussi désarmé que désarmant :

J’écris à l. a. main
j’écris sur du pain
sans savoir
de quelle encre
le beurrer.

Je ne sais pas
de quel poème
vient le poème. »

« Voix et photos », no.7

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Sample text

One and then a second of the tall trunks bent, snapped, Then he toiled at the and plunged into the torrent. two remaining trees. As they parted and swung down with a crash, the wolf-hound growled and 26 Bait the Attacot Ms sprang to feet, and the beat of horses' hoofs came show drumming over the turf. A glance served to that Bait's work had been done well, and the riders drew rein. " Surrender, in the name of Cassar! If I would I could not," replied Bait, pointing to the chasm. " Let me help thee," laughed one of the troopers.

Head Then, as the breath fluttered Watch with me," he made wheels desert darkened. high Over- air the pelicans of white and within wheels of but before they faded into shadowy trails the and Marcus was once more old man's eyes glazed, with Bait, and both were with Christ. How They Saved Nisibis who came in and took his rough goat-skin place amid the splendour of the Synod of Nicaea, more like a wild creature of the woods than a bishop. Loath had he been to forego his hermit life among the Masian Mountains, where he had lived on wild herbs, nuts, and berries; his drink had been the THIS is the story of Jacpbus of Edessa, his torrent; his bed in summer the earth, with the leaves of the forest as a covert against the planets that strike and the blindness that comes of the light moon; but in winter, when the great cold which is the sister of death was abroad on the heights, he took shelter in a cave hewn out of the rock.

He was given charge of the monastery garden, and cultivated herbs and fruits, thinking with a quiet joy that the Lord Himself was once taken for a gardener. were spent in labour spirit was upheld by the sweet For if he looked over of created things. ministry the hill-tops into the bright immeasurable distances There the days of and prayer, and his his years was lost why so would in the intense shining of until sight itself the desert, it be when the soul stood When the sun at gaze before the divine splendour.

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