Heartbreak in Malta
I would tell whoever might ask that the reason I was there was for my health, which is true enough in some respects. People do go to Malta for their health, now and in earlier days, to help improve their constitution. I needed help with my constitution, because it was in a state of desolation. It struck me fairly early on that the others who came here before me may have been suffering from the same malady, even though most of them did not know you, most likely. I like the idea of rocky landscapes, and endless water, along with luxurious hotels. Malta has a strong and healthy supply of all of these.
I imagined that surrounding myself with healthy things might make me healthy by osmosis, or perhaps it might even be peer pressure, or perhaps my heartache would just give up and leave out of boredom. But I was only halfway through a small volume of poems by Dun Karm when I started to understand that the peculiar malaise from a loss in love leads to a state of boredom that is sufficient and necessary to hearing the sounds of the sea.
I would have preferred to think that I had come here to find myself alone, and from that position I could indulge in my own sadness in order to throw it off of my shoulders once and for all. Something in the air, and something else in the water, mix to make a most peculiar magic. I understand the things that move the great poet of Malta, and sometimes in solitude I can understand the decision to move from writing in Italian to Maltese. This was a shift for him, a change in how he saw the world, and an acceptance of where he was. It was also an invitation to allow this magic to enter and begin to work its healing powers.
No related posts.