Frequent readers of this blog probably know that Miroslav Holub is one of my favorite poets. And it was a great delight to get a recent e-mail message with a link to a previously unpublished 1994 interview with this scientist and poet -- appearing in the April 2 posting in the Virginia Quarterly Review blog. The interview, conducted and written by Irene Blair Honeycutt, has these opening sentences: "Miroslav Holub
(1923–1998) is one of the most internationally well-known Czech poets.
He led a career as a scientist, and his poetry is known for its
sharpness and wit, as well as descriptions of aging and suffering."
Showing posts with label accuracy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label accuracy. Show all posts
Friday, April 5, 2013
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Grasping at TIME
Different persons experience time differently -- as illustrated by the few lines included below (part II of "Time" from my new collection, Red Has No Reason). This musing is followed by the beautifully precise "Four Quartz Crystal Clocks" by Marianne Moore (1887-1972).
Labels:
accuracy,
clock,
four,
JoAnne Growney,
Marianne Moore,
mathematics,
poetry,
precision,
quartz,
Red Has No Reason,
syllabic verse,
time
Thursday, August 19, 2010
From Miroslav Holub -- a reflection on accuracy
In applications of mathematics, as in other scientific research, it is important to distinguish between the precision of measurements (how closely they agree with each other) and their accuracy (how closely measured values agree with the correct value). One of my favorite poets, Miroslav Holub (1923-98), also a research scientist (immunologist), has captured this dilemma with irony in his "Brief Reflection on Accuracy," translated from Czech by Ewald Osers.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Poems starring mathematicians - 4
Each of today's poems is in the voice of a student who looks back. First, from Carol Dorf, a poem to the author of a book--written as a fan-letter, "Dear Ivar." And then, for his hero (a special Grammar School teacher) by Czech poet and scientist Miroslav Holub (1923-98), "The Fraction Line."
Dear Ivar,
I read your book on the unexpected.
Like most poets, I opposed mathematics
when I was young, seeing it as the converse
to feeling. The previous statement is false.
Labels:
accuracy,
Carol Dorf,
catastrophe,
converse,
fraction,
fraction line,
instability,
Miroslav Holub,
one-to-one,
precise
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