Jun 26, 2015
So it was that one day, in a sudden fit of nostalgia, I wrote in red pencil on the marble tabletop of a café in Jindřichův Hradec: Ici était Robert Desnos le 23 mai 1952 — for at that silent moment, as a gray cat slowly entered through the open door and settled in on an empty chessboard, it was unbearable to think that the poet was dead, and that Josef Stuna, who testified to his death, was lost God knows where and I would never set eyes on him again. —from Midway Upon the Journey of Our Life, by Josef Jedlička, a translation in progress for Karolinum Press
Image: Déclaration de Josef Stuna sur la mort de Desnos