Here you won't find the pages of a pedantic journal, praises to fantastic places or accounts of memorable encounters. This is a collection of stories, thoughts, images, and most of all odd stuff, even though to someone else it might actually look ordinary. To discern its bizarre side, in fact, special filters are needed: cynicism, fussiness, stubbornness, isolation, impudence, nosiness and nerdiness. All flaws that, in different measure, this semi-nomadic being has got embedded in his genes.
Thursday, September 26, 2024
Haiku
Haiku used to be the name of the first stanza of the Japanese ancient poems. It finally became a literary form itself. The shortest form of poetry, a haiku is always composed of three verses: five, seven and five syllables each.
This is a collection of Italian translations of haikus written between the 17th and the 19th century, including quite a few works by the three most important authors of the genre (Basho, Buson and Issa) and many of their followers and contemporaries.
I don't think it is translated in English but I reckon that one can find a similar anthology in any major language.
Most of these compositions are meant to inspire in the reader a sensation or an image or both.
I find them brilliant.
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