A five-language anthology of poems by the same author is very rare. So, besides the fact that the author is well known in Esperanto literature and whose writings often appear on the pages of Literatura Foiro (Literary Fair), Carmel Mallia lately won first prize in the drama branch of the Belartaj Konkursoj (literary contests) of the Universal Esperanto Association with his play in verse Najbaroj (Neighbours). I was struck by this exceptional book.

The English language title My latest poems reminds the reader that Mallia’s journey in the poetry domain has already a long history behind it (although he writes poetry also in other languages) beginning from Kontrastoj (2002) and ending with Distre-libere (2005) besides other collections of poetry and a nice novel Ĉielarka estonto (A rainbow-like future – 2002) about the suffering of the Maltese during the last world war.

Mallia is a cultured person, almost 90, who writes in at least three other languages, besides Maltese, Italian and English. Italian was the ordinary cultural language during the first two years of the last century (even official language up to 1934). English was used from the beginning of the British era in Malta (1814) up to Independence in 1964 and afterwards. Besides, during the last century, some also studied French.

Esperanto was introduced in Malta about the same time as other European countries. The first society was founded in Msida by GP Gustav Busuttil in 1903. After the last world war, the Malta Esperanto-Society was chaired for a long period by Mallia, who was also founding-member of the Esperantista Verkista Asocio (Esperantist Writers Association) besides also being a member of literary societies in Malta. It was also Mallia who translated into Esperanto works by Maltese authors. In fact, he is the only one who made Maltese culture known to esperantists outside Malta.

So this five-language poetry book by Mallia is no surprise. It embraces, in a modest space, although elegant, arranged into five parts, each introduced with an attractive picture, 99 poems: 18 in English, 15 in Eperanto, nine in French, 29 in Italian and 28 in Maltese. These poems are not translations, although two of them have the sane title: J’attends (in French) and Ti aspetto (in Italian), both meaning ‘I wait for you’, however, they handle different themes.

Here, each language has its own medium. In the Italian section, the poet remembers his visit to a small town in Sicily, Sant’Angelo di Brolo, where he went to collect his first prize for an Esperanto poem and where he was later invited to sit as judge for later poetry competitions. Another Italian reminiscence (with acrostics), is about Amerigo Iannacone, an active literary figure and esperantist from the southern central Italy who died in a car accident two years ago.

Some Italian expressions seem to be cloned from Esperanto like fastidiati instead of infastiditi or balbutino instead of balbettano as well as the absence of the article in front of a possessive adjective. But that’s the Italian language of Malta with its side-shades, sympathetic, fresh, poetic and calm.

In all sections (I could read very little Maltese except for words with Latin roots), the key is love, positivity, also on account of the Catholic background of the author: thanks to the martyrs of the fatherland and to the defending heroes of the capital city (although without hatred for foreign rulers); unending love in front of a tomb with flowers that fade but stay symbolically alive; love for the smallest flame that helps the poet write what comes to mind; or when looking at a photo of a second generation nephew but, at the same time, asking pardon to the other nephews he never wrote verses about. How delicate!

One can read about a scene in a cafe while people pass by and children play but also Survoje al libereco (On the way to freedom), an impressive and suggestive thought about migrants, with a sad ending. This poem talks about migrants that die in the Mediterranean sea, with a short note at the end of the poem that reads: “This poem was found almost unreadable on the beach in the south sea of Malta, probably after the foundering of the boat that left the North African shores. Probably the sinking hindered the writer to finish his /her poem.”

A variety of metric artistry in all five languages: here are very regular rhyming verses; there half lines near each other; then the appearance of prose-poetry. But Mallia even surpasses himself and also succeeds through the Hajku (nine in English, 15 in Esperanto and nine in Italian); in the Maltese section one meets the final line that explains the whole stanza, through lines from operas as : Libiamo ne’ lieti calici from the Traviata by Giuseppe Verdi. And so on.

The common language of the book seems to be English because of its title, of the page and a half of introduction and of the last page containing a CV but nothing else. One versed in languages may find pleasure and beauty equally distributed throughout the five sections.