Volumes of Poetry
- Hartskrif (1985) ("Heart Script")
- Bitterlemoene (1986) ("Bitter Oranges")
- Die Anatomie van Melancholie (1987) ("The anatomy of melancholy")
- Palinodes (1987)
- Geslote Baan (1988) ("Closed Circuit/Track")
- Donker Labirint (1989) ("Dark Labyrinth")
- Gesteelde Appels (1989) ("Stolen Apples")
- Kriptonemie (1989) ("Cryptonomy")
- Verdraaide Raaisels (1990) ("Twisted Riddles")
- Die Somber Muse (1990) ("The Sombre Muse")
- Tachycardia (1990)
- Die Verlore Simbool (1991) ("The Lost Symbol")
- Interne Verhuising (1995) ("Internal house moving")
- Ewebeeld (1997) ("Mirror Image")
- Lykdigte (2000) ("Memorial Poems")
- Ruggespraak (2002) ("Back Speech")
- Die Buigsaamheid van Verdriet (2004) ("The flexibility of sorrow")
- En skielik is dit aand (2005) ("And suddenly it's evening")
- Dad (2006)
- Koesnaatjies vir die proe (2008)
- Vuurwiel (2009) ("Wheel of fire")
Read more about this topic: Joan Hambidge
Famous quotes containing the words volumes of, volumes and/or poetry:
“There is hardly a pioneer’s hut which does not contain a few odd volumes of Shakespeare. I remember reading the feudal drama of Henry V for the first time in a log cabin.”
—Alexis de Tocqueville (1805–1859)
“The great British Library—an immense collection of volumes of all ages and languages, many of which are now forgotten, and most of which are seldom read: one of these sequestered pools of obsolete literature to which modern authors repair, and draw buckets full of classic lore, or “pure English, undefiled” wherewith to swell their own scanty rills of thought.”
—Washington Irving (1783–1859)
“It is at the same time by poetry and through poetry, by and through music, that the soul glimpses the splendors found behind the tomb; and when an exquisite poem brings tears to one’s eyes, these tears are not the sign of excessive pleasure, they are rather witness to an irritated melancholy, to a condition of nerves, to a nature exiled to imperfection and which would like to seize immediately, on this very earth, a revealed paradise.”
—Charles Baudelaire (1821–1867)