Today I am writing for you a little study about poetry, the beautiful art where the soul speaks with enigmatic metaphors. Let’s have a coffee together remembering about the most dear lyrics we have ever read.
I will choose today the “Poetry” by Nichita Stanescu, because he breaches my inspiration late in the nights:
“Poetry is the weeping eye
it is the weeping shoulder
the weeping eye of the shoulder
it is the weeping hand
the weeping eye of the hand
it is the weeping soul
the weeping eye of the heel.
Oh, you friends,
poetry is not a tear
it is the weeping itself
the weeping of an uninvented eye
the tear of the eye
of the one who must be beautiful
of the one who must be happy.”
So much depth is hidden in the words when they sit down in lyrics of poetry. The poetry is the touching ground between the vibration of life and its creating source. The poetry is the apogee of literary creation, the source of discovering unknown truth of the world, of the soul which is laying them down on the paper. Nights of longing find the mouth to speak about about them – THE POETRY.
The sky makes poetry its bed, touching the emotion of the heart which writes down lyrics, so it embraces the heart of the one’s that’s reading it. A poetry instigates us, it sends us on the wings of thinking and seduces us to penetrate the secret metaphors of the artist. How brave a poet is when throwing his tears out on a humid paper, walking around the dark roads of the unconsciousness, creating the scene of a game of paradigms, while inciting our judgement and curiosity to discover him, naked, without any stylistic figures, in its own epiphany!
I am deeply grateful for all the great creators of poems, because they brought pure creation, trees of knowledge whose roots have reached ours.
Who is the poet of your soul, my dear reader?
See you tomorrow,