Comments on: Whose Words These Are (8): Rosanna Warren http://www.radioopensource.org/whose-words-these-are-8-rosanna-warren/ Christopher Lydon in conversation on arts, ideas and politics Wed, 28 Jul 2010 01:00:21 +0000 http://wordpress.org/?v=2.9.2 hourly 1 By: Rich Curtis http://www.radioopensource.org/whose-words-these-are-8-rosanna-warren/comment-page-1/#comment-165419 Rich Curtis Sun, 20 Dec 2009 22:48:54 +0000 http://www.radioopensource.org/?p=4055#comment-165419 I was her student years ago and she is a dedicated, tireless teacher who inspires her students towards a love of great writing. She is wonderful. I was her student years ago and she is a dedicated, tireless teacher who inspires her students towards a love of great writing.

She is wonderful.

]]> By: Potter http://www.radioopensource.org/whose-words-these-are-8-rosanna-warren/comment-page-1/#comment-163827 Potter Thu, 08 Oct 2009 18:21:00 +0000 http://www.radioopensource.org/?p=4055#comment-163827 She's terrific. That Rosanna Warren does not want to look like a poet, or be noticed, or be known as the daughter of her poet father fits her poetry and how real she is in this interview... and a good teacher, in love with art, her medium - life. She did not explain what she meant exactly by the "heterogeneity" of the poetry that she reads from various locales but that fits with my sense that we are <i>not</i> about failing empire but going through a welcome receding so others can rise and we can notice. Also welcome and needed is reflection. I started with this one of your poetry series, finally. It's hard to take the time lately and wonderful to be made to do so not only from a commitment to ROS but also, or more, to myself... especially to allow poetry again ( as music) into my life. Listening to Rosanna Warren read her own poems in her melodic voice is such a treat. Every one that she read was simply penetrating. And on mp3, if I miss, I go back, and did and will. Looking for Baudelaire in my volume of French poetry ( Penguin, 1820-1950) I came across something I tucked into the book years ago ( one thing leads to another) which I offer --a free translation after La Martine's "Les Preludes": <i>What after all is our life but a series of preludes to that unknown song whose 1st note is sounded by death? Was there ever a man whose happiness was not threatened by stormy fates, whose illusions were not tattered, whose altar was not destroyed by deadly lightning ray. And was there ever a soul that did not seek solace in nature after such harrowing tempest. But still, when the trumpet's alarm is heard he hurries to the forefront of the battle and regains his feelings of strength and self."</i> ( re solace- see also Ken Burns series on the national parks- "America's best idea" ) Thank you. She’s terrific. That Rosanna Warren does not want to look like a poet, or be noticed, or be known as the daughter of her poet father fits her poetry and how real she is in this interview… and a good teacher, in love with art, her medium – life.
She did not explain what she meant exactly by the “heterogeneity” of the poetry that she reads from various locales but that fits with my sense that we are not about failing empire but going through a welcome receding so others can rise and we can notice. Also welcome and needed is reflection.

I started with this one of your poetry series, finally. It’s hard to take the time lately and wonderful to be made to do so not only from a commitment to ROS but also, or more, to myself… especially to allow poetry again ( as music) into my life.

Listening to Rosanna Warren read her own poems in her melodic voice is such a treat. Every one that she read was simply penetrating. And on mp3, if I miss, I go back, and did and will.

Looking for Baudelaire in my volume of French poetry ( Penguin, 1820-1950) I came across something I tucked into the book years ago ( one thing leads to another) which I offer –a free translation after La Martine’s “Les Preludes”:

What after all is our life but a series of preludes to that unknown song whose 1st note is sounded by death? Was there ever a man whose happiness was not threatened by stormy fates, whose illusions were not tattered, whose altar was not destroyed by deadly lightning ray.

And was there ever a soul that did not seek solace in nature after such harrowing tempest.

But still, when the trumpet’s alarm is heard he hurries to the forefront of the battle and regains his feelings of strength and self.”

( re solace- see also Ken Burns series on the national parks- “America’s best idea” )

Thank you.

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