In a Time of Violence: Poems - Eavan Boland

As in a city where the evil are permitted to have authority and the good are put out of the way, so in the soul of man, as we maintain, the imitative poet implants an evil constitution, for he indulges the irrational nature which has no discernment of greater or less...

Platão

Uma poesia em que o pedestre se enche de memória e expectativa, de passado e de futuro. Um vestido não é um objecto inanimado:

 

We dream a woman on a steamboat
parading in sunshine in a dress we know     
we made. She laughs off rumours of war.
She turns and traps light on the skirt.     
It is, for that moment, beautiful.

Alguns poemas parecem épicas das consequências das épicas dos actos:

A woman lying
across the Kells Road with her baby—
in full view. We had to go
out of our way
to get home & we were late
& poor Mama was not herself all day.

Gostei especialmente destes versos:

(...) To be the hostages ignorance
takes from time and ornament from destiny.
 Both.
To be the present of the past. To infer the difference
with a terrible stare. But not feel it. And not know it.