Poet, son of the writer Lev Blatný (1894-1930). Born in Brno, he spent the first part of his life here – before escaping into exile in 1948. He lived in a house...
Poet, translator and publicist, Brno born, spent his childhood and youth here. He learned the bookseller’s trade from A. Píša and for a brief period (1919–1921)...
Poet and publicist. Lived in Brno from 1937 until his death, latterly at Mášova street. He is linked to several cultural institutions (the Brno studios of Czechoslovak...
Poet, publicist, memoirist. The first – and so far the only Czech to receive the Nobel prize for Literature. In addition to the lasting popularity he won through...
Poet, writer, editor and translator. Spent most of his life in Brno and is closely linked to a number of Brno cultural institutions (the magazine Host do domu...
Poet and schoolteacher. His connection to Brno dates back to his university days. Apart from one interlude, he has been living to this day at Poděbradova street....
Kohoutovice (Hotel Myslivna) Koliště (Koliště Street) Komárov Komín Komín, Hlavní (Main street, the Dvořáks’ ) Královo Pole, Palackého třída (Palacký Street) Kraví hora - hvězdárna (observatory) Kraví hora (Cow Hill) Křenová (Křenová Street) Křížová (Křížová Street)
1910 – 1985
Poet and publicist. Lived in Brno from 1937 until his death, latterly at Mášova street. He is linked to several cultural institutions (the Brno studios of Czechoslovak radio, the magazine Host do domu among others). He devoted dozens of verses to chosen places in Brno. His poetic debut came in 1931, after which he published a number of other collections of verse, which belong among the mainstays of Czech poetry from the 1940s to the 1980s, such as Ortely a milosti ‘Sentences and clemencies’ (1958). In 1964 he published a selection of verse dedicated to Brno (Zelený chrlič /The green gargoyle/ 1964). He was a regular at a choice set of wine bars – among his favourites was the Bzenecká vinárna on Solniční street.
When it rains in Koliště
– you know that rustle –
all the leaves start to chatter,
and every feeling, barely having got burning,
is at least guarded for you by a drop of spatter
chilling gun-barrelled and just sidling up to your soul
– you know that sheen –
how under the streetlights
fending off the night gloom there is a cloak,
and all the people are at once see-through
and all the people out for themselves now, soak
masking trails so the others will lose their tracks
translated by Václav Pinkava
Mikulášek, Oldřich: Svlékání hadů (Sloughing snakes), Prague: Československý spisovatel 1963, p. 41.