The need for poetry comes from life, from what is around you, from faces, places, hours, weather, sun, rain, snow, wind and ice, from nature...when philosophy, fiction, and thought clearly prove themselves incapable of revealing what not even religion is able to help us reveal: the human part that suffers and irrevocably needs BEAUTY, to experience the beauty that is rooted in what Saint Augustine calls saeculum and where mankind works, suffers, is born and dies, hates, kills but also LOVES before departing.
„Was sich überhaupt sagen lässt, lässt sich klar sagen; und wovon man nicht reden kann, darüber muss man schweigen“
"What can be said, can be said with clarity: What can't be said, must remain unsaid "
Poetry is that human part, that is precisely the opposite of that other part which Dostoevsky masterfully revealed: folly.
And when that sensation of beauty that is wholly human, which is granted to man, like madness, SCREAMS to be heard, to come up, to rise up because it belongs to him, it belongs to man, and it wants to live, to come to the surface, then, when the BEAUTY asks for a voice to be spoken, and finally imposes itself to come into the world forever, then art is born and poetry is born.
After all, we can define poetry as "madness for beauty". Isn't insane a man who writes poems at the age of seventy?
But poetry is poetry even when it doesn't go on paper, but remains lived and felt poetry, determined by a moment in the form of intuition, vision, insight, which belongs to many moments of human daily life that everyone experiences, but many do not recognize it and suppress it, because the majority hides by default the divine spark that they carry within themselves and that comes from God and lets them recognize and accept BEAUTY, because they reject God and his works and gifts.
And when that sensation of beauty that is wholly human, which is granted to man, like madness, SCREAMS to be heard, to come up, to rise up because it belongs to him, it belongs to man, and it wants to live, to come to the surface, then, when the BEAUTY asks for a voice to be spoken, and finally imposes itself to come into the world forever, then art is born and poetry is born.
After all, we can define poetry as "madness for beauty". Isn't insane a man who writes poems at the age of seventy?
But poetry is poetry even when it doesn't go on paper, but remains lived and felt poetry, determined by a moment in the form of intuition, vision, insight, which belongs to many moments of human daily life that everyone experiences, but many do not recognize it and suppress it, because the majority hides by default the divine spark that they carry within themselves and that comes from God and lets them recognize and accept BEAUTY, because they reject God and his works and gifts.
Here is to see the transcendent aspect of poetry. When recognized and accepted, poetry is the threshold human beauty looks through, before entering, before crossing the same threshold and passing beyond the saeculum. But afterwards, it is no longer poetry, it is the City of God.
But here, at this point, we stop and we conclude with Wittegestein's words:
"What can be said, can be said with clarity: What can't be said, must remain unsaid "
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