Words for My Daughter

by John Balaban

First edition. Blurbs by W. S. Merwin, Maxine Kumin. Fine in printed wrappers. vi , 71, 3 pages. stiff paper wrappers.. 8vo..

Genres: Poetry

80 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1991

About the author

John Balaban (b. 1943) is the author of twelve books of poetry and prose. He has won several awards, including the Lamont Poetry Prize from the Academy of American Poets, a National Poetry Series Selection, and, forLocusts at the Edge of Summer: New and Selected Poems, the 1998 William Carlos Williams Award from the Poetry Society of America. He was named the 2001–2004 National Artist for the Honor Society of Phi Kappa Phi. In 2003, he was awarded a John Simon Guggenheim Fellowship. He has also been nominated twice for the National Book Award. In addition to writing poetry, fiction, and nonfiction, Balaban translates Vietnamese poetry; he is also a past president of the American Literary Translators Association. Balaban is a poet-in-residence and English professor in the creative writing program at North Carolina State University in Raleigh.

Reviews

[Zuska · Rating 4 out of 5]

I bought this book sometime in the early 90s and have read it a few times, but not for quite awhile. Read it again today and it was as beautiful and haunting as I remembered. The first, and title, poem is a shock straight to the heart in its recitation of the horrors children endure; near the end the poet says "I want you to know the worst and be free from it/I want you to know the worst and still find good." Those lines might be taken both as a warning and a blessing, to both the reader and poet alike. Nature sings in these poems, holy melodies as well as horror. The latter is most evident in the poem "For the Missing In Action" where in a bomb crater "...someone died and fertilized the earth, with flesh/and blood, with tears, with longing for loved ones." A "...green creature/a viney man..." has formed"For My Sister in Warminster Hospital" is a poem we could read to each other today. His sister lies ill in bed "...forc[ing] your lungs for air." The poet considers what portents may be found in tales of migrating birds encountering dangers, surviving or dying. "So these auguries were for you, my sister,/asthmatic, gasping to flex your lungs/for ten days.../You be the bird that fell down exhausted,/that rested and took off, a bit later in the day."

In addition to Balaban's own excellent poems, there are several of his translations of Vietnamese poems of Ho Xuan Hwong, each a gem. I'm inspired now to seek out his collection of translated poems, which I did not know about when I first bought this book.

If you love poetry, give this book a read.

[Krista the Krazy Kataloguer · Rating 4 out of 5]

I wish this was still in print!