On our tongue as we count the hour down – the coin we bring, Is the maker, mad for light, for enlightenment, this late admission Here for our rendezvous each with his own To nights when we were wildlife, before kindling It is on our hands, it is in our mouths at every breath, how not That touched us, all that we touched, still glowing actual. Of shoes, sweat, teacups, charms, magnetic debris?
Where in all this are the small, hot, free To a lawn where finch and cricket take what’s givenįits white-to-white, four voices in close canon. With views of Venice, the other the Greek key patternĪrched above early Chopin: bridge across water Out of such and such and so much brick-a-brac.įour napkin-rings, initialled. Eden from which we’ve never been expelled. When we turn towards sleep like us the backward To so much stir, such colour loved animal We’re struck by the prospect of a counterworld Its gift and were immortal, till something in us We tell ourselves, that will not end, and strollĮnchanted through its moods as if we shared Intended for the dark: the sea’s breath deepensįrom oyster-shell to inky, blue upon blue, One of those sovereign days that might seem never He was awarded the Scottish Arts’ Council Muriel Spark International Fellowship and was the sixteenth Neustadt Laureate. His latest poetry collection is Earth Hour(UQP), while his compiled essays, A First Place are published by Knopf. His Collected Stories won the 2008 Australia-Asia Literary Award.
His novels include Ransom, The Great World (winner of the Commonwealth Writers’ prize and the Prix Femina Etranger), Remembering Babylon (shortlisted for the Booker Prize and winner of the IMPAC Dublin Literary Award), An Imaginary Life, Conversations at Curlow Creek, Dream Stuff, Every Move You Make and his autobiographical classic 12 Edmondstone Street. Since ‘Interiors’ in Four Poets 1962, he has published poetry, novels and short stories, essays, opera libretto and a play, and he is widely translated. David Malouf was born in Brisbane in 1934.
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