Occitan poetry  980-2006

by Joan-Frederic Brun




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? 


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A   T R A V E R S    R E G A S
Jonhèm nòstres còsses
coma los meus jonhián lors parelhs
e sens espers de meissons immediatas.
Lauram - semenam.
Nòstres ventres son mostes
coma las aradas de novembre.
Pr' aquò,
ni fumarlas ni aubieiradas
- puslèu -,
la pluèja cauda d'agost -
Calimasses.    Desrastolham.
Relha benfasenta
dins la gleba tebesa.
Nòstras mans aponhadan lo gran
de las semenadas estèrlas.
Cossí nos carram nosautres
dins la tèrra umorosa
de nòstras cubèrtas personalas!

We unite our bodies
as mine used to bind their oxen,
and with no hope of immediate harvests. We plow - we sow.
Our bellies are wet
like ploughings of November.
neither fogs, nor hoar frosts.
But rather
the hot rain of August. 
     Heat waves. We plough the stubble.
Salutary ploughshare
in the tepid ground.
Our hands take by handles the grain
of sterile sowing.
We're so happy
in the ground more and more wetted
by our own ploughing and sowing.

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