By Ninnj Di Stefano Busà
It is entitled "Legni" this collection of Paolo Pistoletti, not concrete or scrap metal, both hard, compact, with inexorable force of impact at times. Here the metaphor is obvious, the language is addressed to a soft component, most flexible: bending, enters as a symbol of something that is in place regardless of our human nature is particularly hostile. It is a symbolic representation that guides us to see in these verses faith overt or latent shows us a path, a way, made the most of by some representatives in the shade, not entirely declarative, and not as a moral and ethical matrix contrasts with a quid to put it transpires from Kierkegaard to.
One of the most successful work incipitario that of the author, intent on crossing existential and sorgivamente act to promote certain doctrines within, cataloging them as a primary asset of the individual, and to pass delinerasi, to propose, in each fragment, almost to the point (de) encode into symbols and structures that keep the tree symbolism, without the need to be depleted in the secondary yield individualistic, (see) for example. “quella luce quando non è nei tuoi occhi” oppure, il felice esito lessicale del più acceso (si fa per dire)... “Si sta qui/ come chi vede la brace nell’aria”. Incomparable beauty of style appears this brief text, which I will quote in full, because I get a staple of his writing:
Legno di casa
Conoscere il legno di casa
gli spacchi le età i cerchi
la traccia della resina.
Chiedersi come mai si muove
senza avere vita,
se la linfa veramente manca
dentro tutta questa povertà
che ti guarda
che ti fa ombra
quando il fuoco avvampa
sulle mura o sul tetto
al fumo della cappa
alla fuliggine delle stelle.
There shines a comparison between osmotic fire and flame, between the sap and life, almost palpable. In Exodus there is a kind of inherent message of his vision metaevangelico philosophical / theological. These lines should be analyzed with due respect to his shame, but I'm here, as ever, the explicit sign for some sort of cupio dissolve.
Here they are:
“da sgranare parola per parola/ fino all’ultimo mistero che poi è ovunque/
più grande di te.”
Again: “non mi ricordo più quante volte si muore, quante stagioni di legni/ ci pesano sulle mani/ prima di rovesciarci il cuore.”
Full of balance and semantic anagrammatici this book is a rare feeling, almost captures lymph and blood from your body that is no stranger to the dematerialization of itself, but rather interprets the subject of the Renaissance, when in Acqua signs “quella legna che siamo si è spenta”.
The crossing of the existing physical that (s) escapes with the inquiries for sure, this author seems to be an excuse to exhibit life in its various facets, never abstract.
It follows a religion underground, almost unnoticed, never declarative or defiant, almost hushed tone that indicates an invitation to faith, an indication that the beyond becomes explicit when it needs support of sublime truth, as it can be a sign from above, a strong path towards a conceptual view more explicitly evangelical aimed at transcendence increasingly clear in the experimental opera and raises questions about ancestry, payments and principal and Eliot's objective correlative, lyrically revised in ways that do not fear the high altitude.