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August 12, 2011, Earth
I don't feel too well, but neither do the faces of other people seem to shine with joy.
The only consolation is that humankind (if it avoids self-destruction) is destined for a progressive improvement in its status.
But I believe we won't even get to see its dawn.
"Si sta come
d'autunno
sugli alberi
le foglie"
(G. Ungaretti, Courton Woods, France, 1918. "LAllegria", 1931)
"Soldati" was written at the end of the first world conflict and is part of a collection that represents (as the author himself says) an autobiography. The meaning is obvious: it represents the precariousness of soldiers' lives in war. Broadly speaking, it can be applied to humanity, in general, and to that battle which is life. The aggressive meter in its minimalism is perfect in imagining and imagining oneself the pain, compassion, and sense of abandonment.
Everything else is left to the reader (even in seeking signs of rebirth).
Mo.
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