An attempt to explain the meaning of this mysterious word (that is, drunkard) has been done by two famous philosophers of our past.
The little camels of memory carry our thoughts on their back. We don't know where they go, but you might like to know when they leave.
This is the translation of a short story by Filippo Martinez about what is going to happen when we are going to die. And don't tell me you aren't curious about that.
Daria Menicanti (Piacenza 1914 - Rome 1995) is an Italian poetess. Unfortunately she is almost unknown, but her poems are definitely worth reading. Here follows my English translation of a couple of them.
She hopes who knows what. Goes away
with her bottom hung in a black swimsuit.
She smiles, swings it. Thinks
she’s the only one to have it.
It cannot last. It won’t last for sure.
Love sticks, craving for your burning
body and runs to others,
everlasting only in this very event.
Anything else you can say is running
poor poets down.
Myricae are aromatic plants, but they are also the title of a collection of poems written by Giovanni Pascoli, an Italian guy who lived a hundred years ago. In a touching preface, the poet recalls the troubles of his life (his father was murdered and many of his close relatives died prematurely) and his love for mother nature. Here follows the English translation. This preface is just a song for life!
Eilen minä ja Riikka käänsimme yhden italialaisen mahtavan biisin nimeltään "Yhteiset asiat" (le cose in comune). Laulaja on Daniele Silvestri.
Tässä löytyy alkuperäinen teksti ja käännös. Update (5.10.2004): Nyt myös englanniksi!
