Edytta Wojnar's poems throb with surprises. We find here evanescent
desires, personal and communal losses, and heart-felt melancholia for the
left-behind country and native tongue. But there is also sheer playfulness
of language (or rather languages as Wojnar occasionally interweaves her
lyrics with her native Polish words), which does not describe but acts and
reenacts. These poems "walk on their eyelashes" and they "click clack." In
Wojnar's landscapes we walk among "snowflakes as fireflies," and women
are "fog carved in cedar." Her poems hum the melodies of magic and
mysteries. Curses turn into prayers. "Foreign sounds on linked strands roll
into the inked lines." These poems are both profound and sheer delights.
Related Subjects
Poetry