Part II

A few weeks ago we started to reflect on the beauty of words … and we promised to continue! Here we are again!

 

July is the brightest month of the whole year – with summer & holidays just having started – so we „dare“ to offer you some „dark“ thoughts, because „the beauty of words“ not only means „sunshine & happiness“, just like life not always means „sunshine & happiness“.

 

Often these „dark“ words implicate death & decay, like in Krystyna DÄ…browska’s poem „Travel Agency“, when the Polish writer states: I am a travel agency for the dead, I book them flights to the dreams of the living or Slovenian poet Katja Perat when she writes: Things fall apart because they wish to be left alone („And I’m making art“).

 

It was very interesting to find lines of two poets from different countries expressing exactly the same feeling when comparing „sleep“ with „death“. Lithuanian Vytautas Stankus states in this poem „it’s snowing“ – only sleep just sleep the little death whereas Italian Valentina Colonna is even more precise – Dying is every night („untitled“).

 

Kayombo Chingonyi from United Kingdom writes about his sad habit to compare expressions of condolences in his poem „Alternate take“: I’ve been weighing these apologies for years that pass and retreat like disused stations.

 

Sometimes the whole scenery becomes very fatalistic and disillusioned when for example Lithuanian poet Vytautas Stankus states in his poem „leap years“ that thinking is unnecessary – you roll the dice and either they fall for you or they fall for you or, in the same poem, – if you look for a while at the fire your dreams will pale.

 

A bit of this fatalistic attitude might also be attributed to German poet Zehra CirakShe calls yes-no into the woods when it echoes yes-no from within. Or the beautiful line her hope is full of frustration and she wants to pour it behind her loincloth, both taken from her poem „The Putte“.

 

Also Italian poet Tiziano Fratus may contribute something to this topic: Seeds are journeys whose destination is already set at departure from his poem „Every seed carries a journey within“.

 

We had this fatalistic aspect already in our last column, but it is a hugh field with many different aspects, some are very simple and clear: If I write down that I am alone I mean thatAna Pepelnik in „Suddenly snow“.

 

But as it is summer we don’t want to be too pessimistic – so two more romantic lines to indicate that the world might not be that bad …

 

I went by and send you an eyelash Ana Pepelnik reveals in her poem „Thirteen“ and finally Italian poet Tiziano Fratus confessing my fire burns for you in his poem „Utamaro at the foot of Monviso“ – what beautiful last words!

 

„The beauty of words“ – not limited to any borders, but maybe to be continued!