One day, when I was twelve years old, I felt an irresistible urge to climb down from the treetops—where I’d spent much of my tomboy years—and pick up a pencil. My very first composition was a poem entitled The Enchanted Glade.
At the time, I was living in the middle of a sizzling Brazilian asphalt jungle. I had never seen a forest, much less a glade—enchanted or otherwise—but I wished with all my heart to see one. That wish became a poem.
“Mano, sabe aonde eu fui,
e voltei tão assustada?
Eu fui visitar
a clareira encantada.Na clareira as flores dançam
e as árvores …”
That’s all I remember of it now.
The Enchanted Glade was the first and last poem I wrote for the sole purpose of conjuring fantasy, but it wasn’t my last poem. No matter where life has taken me—from Brazil to Sweden—I have continued to write: in Portuguese, English, and Swedish.
I write poetry out of love for words—their sound, their rhythm, their meaning—and out of love for the languages themselves. Love is my driving force.
To date, I’ve published one small collection, Skorpion, created in collaboration with my friend and fellow poet Martin Ringh. Eventually, all the poems from Skorpion will appear here, along with many others—those already written and those yet to be.
My poems (and fiction) are organic entities. They may change slightly over time, as living things do.
Thank you for reading,
Lydia Duprat