primo: a me piace pensare che la poesia debba prima di tutto dire qualcosa a chi legge, secondo lei esiste ancora in Italia un certo tipo di poesia che serva a questo scopo?
Rispondo dicendo che la vera poesia è quella scritta da un uomo libero per cittadini liberi. Ma, le chiedo: siamo oggi liberi? È possibile scrivere per uomini che si credono liberi ma che nella realtà non lo sono? È possibile scrivere sapendo di già che c’è una menzogna sotto stante che ciascuno fa finta di non vedere? È possibile scrivere una poesia o un romanzo senza prendere atto di questa ipocrisia macroscopica?. Ma non mi voglio sottrarre alla responsabilità di abbozzare comunque una risposta, e rispondo citando per esteso la poesia di Czesław Miłosz con un commento di Alfonso Berardinelli, uno di Giovanna Tomassucci e uno mio:
Ars Poetica – Czesław Miłosz, 1957
Ho sempre…
View original post 1.265 altre parole
L'Ombra delle Parole Rivista Letteraria Internazionale 
Adeodato Piazza Nicolai
IT WAS THE YEAR 1957
https://lombradelleparole.wordpress.com/2017/08/23/intervista-sulla-poesia-a-giorgio-linguaglossa-di-ambra-simeone-2/comment-page-1/#comment-23006
SIXTY YEARS AGO, Czeslaw Milosz, in his Ars Poetica (1957), had proposed
“a more capable form … neither too much poetry nor too much prose”
capable of being understood
“without exposing anyone, neither author nor reader, to extreme suffering…”
“In the very essence of poetry – he had said – there is something indecent: from each one of us there arises something we didn’t know what it would be; we thus blinked our eyes as if it a tiger had jumped up, motionless in the light, whipping its tail on its flanks.”
“Therefore it is justly claimed that poetry is dictated by a daimon although it is exaggerated to sustain it could be an angel. It is hard to understand from where such pride of the poets has originated, if they often are ashamed that it might seem to be their own weakness. What reasonable man would like to be dominated by
demons who behave inside of him as if they lived in his own house, speaking in many tongues and, not satisfied of stealing his lips and his hand try, for their own comfort, to change destiny? Because the morbous is appreciated these days, someone could think that I am just joking or might have discovered another way of praising Art by means of irony. There was a time when only wise volumes were read to help us support pain and unhappiness. Nonetheless it is not the same as leafing through thousands of work pieces directly coming from a psychiatric clinic. And yet the world is different from what it seems and we are different from our own whimsies. And so people preserve a mute honesty, conquering in this way the esteem of relatives and neighbors. The utility of poetry lies in our remembering how hard it is to remain the same person, because our home is open, the door without key and invisible guests who enter and leave. What I am talking about is not poetry, I agree, since it is permitted to write verses both seldomly and against wishes, pushed by an unsupportable constriction and solely in the hope that benign not evil spirits, make us their instrument”.
From Ceslaw Milosz, POESIE, Adelphi, Milan, 1983, translated by Pietro Marchesani
© 2017 by Adeodato Piazza Nicolai for the liberal transposition, in American, of the poem entitled in Italian “Ars Poetica”. All Rights Reserved. Vigo di Cadore, 23 August 2027, at 16: 12 p.m. Adapted from L’OMBRA DELLE PAROLE RIVISTA LETTERARIA INTERNAZIONALE, “Intervista sulla poesia a Giorgio Linguaglossa” by Ambra Simeone, May 4 2014. All Rights Reserved.