How deeply I love the broken

form — deep down — excluded — from the out pouring
of poetry.

At what point — now —
      I think
this form discontinuous
    — stop — dash — disarticulation
can displace the tongue
on (strict) condition
that it use no artifice
      no facility
      no false silence or false void

Unfathomable this part left to drip without a word said
with or without interruption         (glimmers, barely)

“Singable remains” however sums up the task perfectly

    — it’s pretty much impossible to do except

in a kind of buoyant distraction, a precise observation however
(under the trees, this brief shimmer of the water etc.)

on the surface minuscule events, surprising
distant pursuits

What’s left will serve me, sparks of domed glass, the spark of a fissure,
the spark of a lie in all we hear,
(this brief shimmering of the water)
filing bits sparkling in your iris

In this manner seeing resides or resists only in the detail

(Fascination with all that is not decided, not distinguished, what’s imprecise,
and what sometimes shows up intermittently    so small this space
so large the effort and fatigue)

Everything I spend my time on instead of writing
will help me to condense the material
when the time comes
to bring about a kind of surge

Takes your breath away, spread and stretch the sentence
for the implacable to pass
(the shadow    the souvenir    the reverie)
until the muscle cramps

What I have seen — the extent — touched thought
    — sometimes —

A rude test where distraction
never promises the certainty of an encounter

So I spend very little time writing
but   motionless see, hear, fall
      fear                  tremble

look at the few books and even fewer poems
    — detached

Two or three images will remain of all the many hours seen

on my retina — years of images sparkling

These last few years, since my brother’s death, waiting for that beast to pass
    — it’s possible, together we see night fall, watchers of
      what we are never really sure to have seen —
has no doubt has been my primary preoccupation

it’s certainly the same thing as
the dash   edge   margin   border (there is no more) the flowerbed I lean over

Brief, the grasp of the furtive
(keep the suspension)
“passing image”

quick as light animals
or slow like heavy animals or little ones

This form has always been for me
      (take a view)
the form of a look or its absence

Filled with wonder by the movement I see only
facets and gradation              (no possible entry)
or otherwise you have to change the poet (glimmers)

From Dickinson to Mallarmé, from Trakl to Akhmatova and Mandelstam
from Celan to Sebald oh my loves   and back,

blind gap — speed, noticed between the snow through the snow,
caesura    and   fluidity           That’s how little, now.

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Isabelle Baladine Howald lives and works in Strasbourg, France, where she studied philosophy and now directs the “Philosophical and Literary Encounters” of the Librairie Kléber. From 1980 to 1982 she edited the literary journal ANIMA (Jacques Brémond publishers). She regularly writes reviews for Poezibao. Her books are: Fragments du discontinu, (éditions isabelle sauvage, 2020), Bref encadrement du furtif (Atelier des Grames, 2018), Hantôme, (éditions isabelle sauvage, 2016), Secret des souffles (éditions Melville, 2004), Nuit d’amour un livre and Les noms, très bas (éditions A Passage, 1986 and 1986), as well as Les Etats de la demolition (éditions Jacques Brémond, 2002). Forthcoming: M, and Le nom de soeur.

Howald’s “Stele for Lenz” also appeared in English in Keith Waldrop’s translation in Série d’Ecriture No. 7 and One Score More: The Second 20 Years of Burning Deck (Providence: Burning Deck, 2002).

Books in English translated by Eléna Rivera are: Parting Movement, Constantly Prevented (Oystercatcher Press, Norfolk, U.K., 2014), The Pain of Returning (Mindmade Books, Los Angeles, CA, 2012) and Secret of the Breath (Burning Deck Press, Providence, RI, 2008). Phantomb is forthcoming from Black Square Editions (Nov. 2021).

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Eléna Rivera is a poet and translator who was born in Mexico City and spent her formative years in Paris. Her most recent book of poetry is Epic Series (Shearsman Books, 2020). She won the 2010 Robert Fagles prize for her translation of Bernard Noël's The Rest of the Voyage (Graywolf Press, 2011) and is a recipient of a National Endowment for the Arts Literature Fellowship in Translation. Her translation of Body Was by Isabelle Garron is forthcoming from Litmus Press. She has translated three of Isabelle Baladine Howald’s books, most recently Parting Movement, Constantly Prevented (Oystercatcher Press, 2014). Phantomb is forthcoming from Black Square Editions (Nov. 2021).

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For Gérard Marret.

The first version, later revised and modified, was published by l’Atelier des Grames 2018 under the title “Bref encadrement du furtif.” Thanks to Anik Vinay for the rights to republish this text. Second modified version was published in the Revue de Belles Lettres, fall 2020. Author's thanks to Marion Graf.

“Singable remains” “Singbarer Rest” (In Atemwende), Paul Celan.

Philippe Jaccottet, Oeuvres, La Pléiade, 2014.

Benjamin citation in Images malgré tout, Georges Didi-Huberman, Minuit, 2003.

Citations into English by Eléna Rivera.

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