(en)
«Teneros ne tange poetas!»
Poetry is one of the highest form of literary expression: infusing meaning with beauty, transcending content through its form.
Il dort. Quoique le sort fût pour lui bien étrange,
Il vivait. Il mourut quand il n’eut plus son ange;
La chose simplement d’elle-même arriva,
Comme la nuit se fait lorsque le jour s’en va.
On of my favourite poet is Rimbaud. I also admire modern poets who practice their art through songs, such as Brel or Brassens. The following picture captures for me the essence of perfect poetry:
(en)
le temps des baisers
Pour deux chemins
ne dure qu’un carrefour.
In one simple, relatable and familiar vision, it makes us realize who, where and what we are and how we relate to others: two paths (two fates, two destinies) can only meet and become one the time of their crossing, at which point they depart again to keep following their own route. It captures in a few words the complex feelings and aspirations we find in a meeting with the other one: the approach and the encounter, then the fusion, and the ineluctable separation and loneliness that is already traced in the map of everybody's trajectory in the big forest of our respective roads that get lost into the horizon. I find it untranslatable in English.
Other poets of note (to me) include Sayat Nova (see the Color of Pomegranates), Bashō and Rumi.
I consider myself a bad poet. By which I mean a poet, the adjective doesn't matter, it just reflect that I am also a scientist, thus with a value for truth, honesty and objectivity.
I like to compose coffee haikus when I'm alone with this beverage that often gives me more regrets than inspiration. I like to compose them in Spanish in deference to whomever I'm not having it with.
Taza muy blanca
No lo sería tanto
Sin café negro.