Book Reviews:

New:

Constantin Stroe, Casa Bunicii/Grandma’s House: Vasile Moldovan

Ban'ya Natsuishi, The Flying Pope: Robert D. Wilson

Ion Marinescu, The Return of the Crane: Magdalena Dale

Robert D. Wilson, Jack Fruit Moon: Linda Papanicolaou

Lenka Jakšić, Akordi mirisa (Chords of Scents): Milenko D. Ćirović Ljutički

Robert D. Wilson, Jack Fruit Moon: Saša Važić

Carole MacRury, In the Company of Crows: Johnye Strickland

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Dimitar Anakiev, Balcony, Richard Gilbert

Mićun Šiljak, A Firefly in a Woodpile: Z. Raonić, N. Simin, B. Stojanovski, N. Simin, M. Despotović

Ion Untaru: Vasile Moldovan

Geert Verbeke: Adam Donaldson Powell

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David G Lanoue: Haiku Guy: Michael McClintock

Ikumi (Ikuyo) Yoshimura, elephant's eyes

David G Lanoue, Laughing Buddha: Michael McClintock

Dušan Vidaković, S prebolene obale/From the Forsaken Shore: Jadran Zalokar

Milenko D. Ćirović Ljutički, U zagrljaju sjenki/The Embrace of Shadows: Verica Živković

Stefanović Tatjana; Zoran D. Živković: Haiku cvet/ A Haiku Flower: Moma Dimić

 

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Classic Haiku, A Master's Selection: From the Preface by Yuzuru Miura

Slavica Blagojević, The Turtledove's Necklace: Vladimir Krasić and Zoran Raonić

Saša Važić, muddy shoes candy heart: Dimitar Anakiev

Gwiazda za Gwiazda, antologia haiku europejskiego: Foreword by Max Verhart 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Milenko D. Ćirović Ljutički, Serbia

 

 

Vesna Oborina, Zvuci tišine (Sounds of Silence), published by the Haiku Association of Serbia and Montenegro; ISBN 978-86-84813-13-0; haiku translated by Saša Važić; (haiku) proofreading: Norman Darlington; the review translated by Dragana Bubalo.

 

 

WEAVE OF FLASHES, TREMBLES AND SCENTS

 

 

 

 

Doctor, humanist, painter and poet, Vesna Oborina gives us her third collection of haiku poetry. I have to emphasize: the collection which is more mature and of higher quality than the previous two ones. Born in Mostar, she lives in Podgorica, with her support in the hinterland of Belgrade and Novi Sad. She has flown over every burnt bridge in this route, flying on the wings of poetry. She builds bridges no one can ever burn. She lives with Mostar in her heart and bridges between people.

Vesna Oborina has been extremely trying to satisfy all the criteria defining this magic poetic form. She has classified her poems into five cycles according to seasons: Scents of Spring, Under the Summer Sky, Playful Waves, Autumn Elegy and Winter Images. The exception is the cycle In the Dead City.

Maybe her haiku poems complete her painter’s motifs, or maybe her painter’s motifs complete her poems. What is certain is that they permeate each other with their vitality. And certainly with the sensibility of the author herself. Haiku is experience for the one who is writing it down. But it is equally experience for the one who is reading it. Well, that is exactly what validates it and causes it to win somebody’s heart.

Lake at night.
In the mirror of its glow
the moon bathes

Footsteps
following a lonely stroller
along the beach

Sometimes motto of her visual sensation is asking questions, curiosity – by no means answers or conclusions. On the other hand, it is sometimes an approach of the observer in nature and its environment, but not purely descriptive, which gives her poem (spiritual) “fire” (without which the poem would have gone into fire – let me paraphrase Tagora).

Haiku has no beginning and no end. It arises spontaneously, in an instant. It is a flesh between poet’s perception and nature.

Dusty road.
The tracks of a dog mixed
with those of a man

The screeching of brakes –
scattered on the asphalt
red apples

In Vesna Oborina, while writing down the haiku, the art of taking away everything that is redundant is expressed no matter how flowery it is and thus inappropriate for haiku.

Sensual emotions permeated with suggestiveness of her observations of the experienced by empathy with nature emanate from this successful weave of flashes, trembles, sounds and scents, in all their fullness.

From the cycle In the Dead City, full of emotional charge, the poem which intensifies with synesthesia its emotional reflection and echo is distinguished.

An old gate creaks
sadly in the wind –
I hear my mother’s voice

Every finish of reading her haiku poems makes a strong impression and desire to read them again. And each time something new is felt. It is what is unsaid but revealed, which gives special charm. The reference for this successful weave as well.

Belgrade, January 2009

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