tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7760986403290352152.post7361125452395151999..comments2024-01-23T03:58:02.422-08:00Comments on oriana-poetry: MILOSZ AS ORPHEUSUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7760986403290352152.post-91277383861478238172010-11-13T13:35:58.642-08:002010-11-13T13:35:58.642-08:00I'm sure that Milosz was able to love, and eve...I'm sure that Milosz was able to love, and everyone seems to remember him as friendly and enormously vital. It's only that writing takes a huge amount of time, and poets/writers tend to feel guilty about not spending enough time with the family (though it's entirely possible that it's just what the family appreciates, someone who doesn't overly intrude on them).orianahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04209366167129773052noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7760986403290352152.post-84884217383281554502010-11-10T21:20:36.708-08:002010-11-10T21:20:36.708-08:00Interesting. I did not know this poem. I think Mil...Interesting. I did not know this poem. I think Milosz was a true mystic, or at least knew about the core of being that all poetry aspires to... But that's a subject for another story.<br /><br />In light of our recent conversations about one "Great Poet" I really like the lines about poets: "Lyric poets<br />Usually have – he knew it – cold hearts.<br />It is like a medical condition. Perfection in art / Is given in exchange for such an affliction." <br /><br />They were friends and lived, at the end of Milosz's life, in Krakow, may these words be dedicated to that other, cold one? Or is Milosz talking about his own inability to engage, to love?Maja Trochimczykhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07070404303173790701noreply@blogger.com