last moon

Visualizzazione post con etichetta universe. Mostra tutti i post
Visualizzazione post con etichetta universe. Mostra tutti i post

venerdì 24 luglio 2026

The Poetry of Giacomo Leopardi as a Guide for Poets of All Time

 


A Backward Look, from the Zibaldone to the Infinito, passing through Horace and the Operette Morali

Almost two hundred years after his death, what remains alive and relevant in Leopardi's poetry? In an age dominated by the hypertrophy of the ego, in which poetic writing often risks retreating into an intimate diary or a pure navel-gazing outburst, it is urgent to question the profound meaning of writing poetry. What is poetry if not the act of throwing our individual consciousness onto the entire cosmos?

From this perspective, the poetry of the great poet from Recanati is a window still open onto the universe, and as such, it retains its universality intact.

To restore poetry to its original stature, we must rediscover the category of "philosophical poetry": a form of poetry that does not renounce form, but transfigures it into a tool for existential, metaphysical, and cosmic inquiry. On this journey, two masters two millennia apart join hands: Quintus Horatius Flaccus and his brilliant reader and translator from Recanati, Giacomo Leopardi.

1. The Poet's Workshop: The Horatian Lesson of the Very Young Leopardi

In 1811, a not yet thirteen-year-old Leopardi, immersed in "seven years of mad and desperate study" in his father's library, embarked on a surprising undertaking: the translation of Horace's Ars Poetica into octaves. Horace is not only the poet of carpe diem; he is the theoretician of measure, of balance, of labor limae (the patient and rigorous filing of the text).

Horace's verses, revived by Leopardi, are a stern warning against facile writing. We have already seen how, for Leopardi, poetry is not an improvised outpouring, but a craft that demands artisanal discipline, labor as hard as that of a blacksmith.

But it is above all on the quality of the work that Horace and Leopardi are adamant:

"Mediocre is tolerated in some things; / not in poetry: just as in honey / a fastidious mouth does not like / an almond as bitter as gall. / How much better would it be to write in prose / for one who in verse is truly a cruel man..."

Poetry does not allow for half measures. While in other arts or professions, average quality can remain useful, in poetry mediocrity is equivalent to failure. A mediocre poem is like a bitter almond drowned in honey: it spoils the whole. Leopardi shares with Horace an almost tragic severity: those who lack the mettle or preparation to bear the weight of the prose verse form should leave the lyre to those who have the "shoulders" to support it.

And to prevent narcissistic illusion from deceiving the author, here is the famous advice of silence and critical scrutiny:

"But if ever, to gain honor and praise, / you sometimes wish to scribble / four verses, O Piso, / show them to your parent / or to a wise and good censor; / then let them be locked up for a long time / because if a man once escapes / he does not return even from the disappointed!"

Horace's "Decalogue" recommended letting the writing "rest" for nine years (nonumque prematur in annum). The written word, once published, can no longer be recalled. The authentic poet knows how to wait, knows how to let emotion settle so that only the crystalline essence of truth remains.

2. From Form to the Cosmos: The Genesis of the Operette Morali

What does this formal rigor have to do with the Operette Morali? It has a crucial role to play.

When Leopardi composed the Operette Morali between 1824 and 1825, he applied to philosophical prose the same ruthless discipline he had learned from Horace and the classics. The Operette Morali are, upon closer inspection, philosophical poetry in the form of ironic and dialogical prose. The brevity, essentiality, absence of frills, and lucidity of style are the direct result of that Horatian apprenticeship.

But there's more: in the Operette Morali, Leopardi makes the decisive leap that separates the simple versifier from the great philosopher-poet. He stops viewing his own personal misfortunes as a private matter and transforms individual suffering into a magnifying glass on the cosmic condition.

When, in the Dialogue between Nature and an Icelander, Nature responds with icy indifference to the pangs of man, or when, in the Dialogue between a Goblin and a Gnome, he shows how the Earth continues its imperturbable motion even after the disappearance of humanity, Leopardi is writing philosophical poetry. He is teaching poets of all times that the true subject of art is not our petty daily neurosis, but the tragic, sublime, and mysterious relationship between human consciousness and the immensity of the Universe.

3. A lesson for poets today and tomorrow

Meditating on these Horatian verses translated by the young Giacomo is an exercise in salutary humility for anyone today who picks up a pen or sits down at a keyboard with the ambition of writing poetry.

What do Horace and Leopardi teach us?

1. Respect for technique: Poetry is not mere instinct or an unreflective flow of consciousness. It is architecture, rhythm, measure, and precise word choice.

2. The courage of truth (the philosophical dimension): Poetry that endures is that which can question existence. It is not content to describe a fleeting feeling, but digs to the roots of pain, joy, hope, and emptiness.

3. Overcoming egocentrism: True "philosophical poetry" is not sterile encyclopedism, but the ability to connect the beat of one's heart with the beat of the cosmos. As in Ginestra, poetry becomes the place where man acknowledges his own fragility and, precisely for this reason, weaves a network of universal empathy.

Let us therefore meditate on these verses together, all of us who aspire to be poets or who love poetry. Let us remember the "ferraro," the value of silence before publication, and above all the responsibility to offer the reader not the superfluous, but a polished gem capable of illuminating, even if only for an instant, the darkness of infinity.

lunedì 24 giugno 2024

The sinkholed's plea

 


https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0C99HPDG9



If you find a skeleton

tied by wires to another skeleton,

tied to another skeleton

and still to another one, that’s me.

Do not look for me in any place,

in a hole or in a ditch.

I lie in those deep and twisted cavities

Flowed by rivers

 which are common in the Kras  region

shared by Italy, Slovenia and Croatia

and ill-famed as  swallow holes.

 

Please wrap me in a wired drape

and give what rests of my body

 back to my beloveds,

to my homeland

and to the things of God.

I hate no one and forgive all.

Just one last thing I’m going to ask you:

open the eyes of your children to the truth!

 

martedì 2 aprile 2024

Echoes from a sad soul - 8

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0C9R3YJRP

The new day

(in death of my brother Mauritius

Now the veils of Maya have fallen

And no longer covers your body

The armor of the Syrian Naaman

I see on your face again

Shining the ancient light

Of our childhood games

When hopes

were all to come

And the misleading curtain

Which hardens the hearts

Had not yet come between us

Run now

On your nimble legs

Wait for me in the sunny lands

Where the sun never sets down.

sabato 30 marzo 2024

Echoes from a sad soul - 7

 




Just let them

I

Let them pass

Come on! Laissez faire, laissez passer!

Today is not time

To shoot people anymore!

Don’t you know is November the 9th 1989?

Today there is not time

To stop goods anymore!

Come on! Only one thousand dollars

Will cost you a plenty full track!

At 9 past 21 p.m.

The wall is falling down!

Laissez faire, laissez passer!

There are bound to be changes

For our lives further on!

It’s crashing down

Together with our illusions

Their false promises

The wrong secular hope!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Come on!

The wall is not hiding anymore

The totems of progress!

Let’s go worshipping

The glittering gods

Bounding ahead!!

II

Let them celebrate

Let them celebrate

the end of your world,

they want to celebrate:

the American dream is over;

they are celebrating

money growing over nothing;

let them celebrate

discovering your rootless brushes;

they need to celebrate

the burial ceremony

of criminal capitalism;

they 'got celebrate

the funeral

of greed octopus

which scrounges their people!

Let them celebrate

the dawn of new distribution

of richness of earth!

Let them celebrate

the end of your world.

III

Let them walk

Let them walk! They are marching for freedom.

Let them walk! They are not hiding anymore!

When people go out their homes,

it means they need to go

and show they are alive!

We need to be poor together

or to be rich together!

You, one per cent,

you can't stop them anymore!

Richness is to be shared

while you keep the other ninetynine per cent

out of goods.

You priests of the profit,

criminals of finance,

embezzler of money,

cheaters of ever,

trappers of men!

Stop your police

and let them walk!

IV

Let them sing

Let them sing, all over the Country,

 let them sing!

Let them sing,

 they are the real voice of the Country!

Let them sing, in the name of liberty,

let them sing in the name of dignity!

Let them sing against speculation,

Let them sing against criminal finance!

Let them sing for the world is their world,

Let them sing for their sons,

for their daughters!

Let them with the voice of the sixties!

Let them sing remembering flowers!

Let them sing for a new world to come!

 

Submitted to Armarolla in the 1st of November 2017

domenica 24 marzo 2024

Echoes from a sad soul - 6

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0C99HPDG9

Please tell me Lord, for you know it

Tell me Lord, because You know,

if still are living our fathers

and where lie their spirits?

Where are the loves and the sighs

The bright ideas

The shaking power

of the nations in the world?

And where are the pleasures of flesh

And the wealth of the globe?

Where the ancient, human wisdom

boundless and eternal?

Where is now that mother

who tender spent herself

on her children?

And that strong father

Who seemed omnipotent?


Where are those games away,

Where age carefree

And the long-awaited youth dreams?

It cannot finish all

During our short life

And all disappear into Nothingness!

venerdì 22 marzo 2024

Echoes from a sad soul - 5

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0C91ZWNT2

Don’t ask me please

 

Don’t ask me please

If I like you

You know I do

But only a platonic love

We can live together

O My Elem

Nobody can build

Any love’s happiness

On the rubble

Of someone else’s   love.

Eventually we both know

There is no rust

In the day

Of the everlasting dawn.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There we’ll finally join

Our souls

For the eternal

never ending love.

mercoledì 20 marzo 2024

Echoes from a sad soul - 4

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07JL32VL5

The time of love

Maybe I’ve loved you

A long time ago

When you

Vestal of Hippocrates

chastely manipulated

The matter sacred to your god!

Maybe you would have loved me

In another time

Where I would have drawn

With words

Your Greek profile

In white veils wrapped!

Maybe I will love you

tomorrow;

but today it is far away

the time of love!

domenica 17 marzo 2024

Echoes froma a sad soul - 3

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0C8YY6R71

The sleeping  soul

 

Was sleeping the soul

In the shadow of reason

As we ran

From the golden prisons

Of Our unfair society

Meeting the horror

Of illusory freedom

Of unattainable equalities

Fallacious Brotherhood

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And there was no poetry

In violence

And in the silence

Of death.

 

martedì 12 marzo 2024

Echoes from a sad soul - 2

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0C8QQ4BSN

I’ll rise again

 

I will rise again,

 when the day dies,

 and I will finally fly! 

I'll be music,

 sweet melody on the evening,

 free spirit,

in to the sunset

 melancholic harmony

of an Andalusian guitar! 

 I'll be joy with no regret, 

I'll be love without fear

 I'll be measureless

 without barriers

 with no borders

 fleeting for ever

 in the infinity sky.