Occitan poetry  980-2008

by Joan-Frederic Brun


Joan-Francés Mariòt

Medieval poetry: the kingdom of love
XVI-XVIII century: tasty baroque antiliteratures
XIX th century: toward a renaissance
XIX th century (1854-1914):  spreading and sclerosis of the Provençal miracle
XX th century (1920-1965): the anguish of no future
XX th century (1965-1981): "un país que vòl viure" (a country that just wants to live)
XX th century (1981-2000): postoccitanisme
XXI th century: just a living literature among many other ones? 


The webmaster


to email me




Poet of Rouergue as also was Jean Boudou, ie the passionately beating heart of Occitania. Jean-François Mariot is one of the "pillars" of the feast of world languages of his hometown Decazeville. A city whose social drama in the middle of the XXieth century played an important role in Occitan revival. 

As a poet he collabores to the journal "OC". His recent  book :"Fax / faxes lenga fa mond "(2006) opened the new poetic collection Oc-Passatges. His deliberately modern literary experiment explores crossroads between poetry and prose, at the point where languages mingle, aiming at highlighting the encounters among all humans.

I specially appreciated this very recent published fragment of a greater poem still to appear, in which he moves to another kind of poetry, gushing from the deepest springs of  language, arising a subtle and long-lasting emotion in the reader's imagination.









de palhenca

al fons dels meus uèlhs
de mas nharras

que m'agolopa
coma lèuna
de longas cossèrgas

aimi d'i m'escampar
l'èime an aquel trempum
de las causas

aimi d'i me bandir coma
'nas pascas estremadas
dins de mesolha

fin qu'a la mar
la sia quita
mar de chompas
entre nòstras ombras


"OC" 2007, no 85 p55


Walls of reeds,
of coarse straw

in the depths of my eyes
my nostrils.

wrapping me
like an ivy
with long tickles

I love rushing my mind
in this remembered moisture
of things.

I love rushing myself in it like
an Easter confined
in a marrow
of November.

Ebro takes down to the sea
its own puddles
among our shadows


There is no copyright. Our aim is to disseminate our culture among all  interested people and not to earn money with it.