Sixty years ago today, on February 22, 1963, Rużar Briffa passed away at the age of 58 in his apartment in Valletta. A couple of years earlier, Briffa had greeted the sad news given to him by his doctor that he was terminally ill, with the words “sajjetta bla ħsieb” (unexpected lightning).

Briffa was born in Valletta on January 16, 1906, to Duminku and Ġovanna. After the death of his first wife in 1950, he married Louisette, who collected the bits of loose papers on which he wrote his snapshots and, with the help of Valentin Barbara, a Dominican monk, published his only book of poetry, called Poeżiji, in 1960.

Although his publications were scant, his works have been thoroughly studied by many, among them the late Oliver Friggieri, who published his poems again in 1983. Friggieri also discovered an old poem by Briffa titled The Autumn Dirge, which reminded him of English romantic poet Percy Bysshe Shelly. It is an early poem by Briffa, who wrote mostly in Maltese. It was written in 1924 and published when Briffa was 18 years old.

It was an autumn dirge, a pale refrain,

From some sad heart who was in some great pain;

– It spoke of death, of all-absorbing woe.

I heard it long and long I felt the pain

Of long-last hopes and dreams in that refrain

Of hate, of death, of all-absorbing woe.

It hashed itself like an eternal pain;

Far slowly, slowly did that sad refrain

Die off... but in my soul it left its woe.

Briffa had been profoundly engaged throughout his life with the interior struggle against solitude, grief and misery. He exposed these intense emotions in terms of conflicting reactions to beauty, joy and health as opposed to gloom and disease.

A unique lyricist whose poems strike one’s heart

At a very young age, he gave up a budding but promising career in education in favour of one as a doctor to be able to cure people and he embarked on a lifelong endeavour to cure skin ailments such as leprosy. He specialised in dermatology in England and India in the 1930s and occupied various senior appointments with the health department and at the University of Malta.

The doctor in Rużar Briffa made him challenge and cure diseases with passion and love and transform this effort into the beauty of his poems. The determined, sensitive doctor in him yielded the soul-searching zeal of a unique lyricist whose poems strike one’s heart with a frequently overwhelming awareness of compassion and reflection.

I feel fortunate to have come into contact with Briffa, who healed me of an infective disease I contracted as a little boy. In order to express my gratitude, I am working on a book called Fejjaqtni Int (You Healed Me). He infused in me this lifelong, intimate happiness I experience whenever I read and re-read his lyrics.

I vividly recall Friggieri during his university lectures, philosophically dissecting the often-distressing moods of Rużar’s poetry and imagery, captivating the attention of us students. I remember my intense feelings when others spoke of a dear person whom fate had planned for me to know closely in my boyhood. I only hope my current work will be a humble but worthy word of gratitude.