I "met" Issa many years ago. Being a reader and a loving creature, I was frustrated because I perfectly well realized the fact that I could not understand his genius profoundly. But seven years ago I left my comfortable dwelling, my city, my rewarding intellectual work. I went abroad seeking casual work in order to save my nuclear family. And then at last, walking in the forest on the roads near Tirrenian Sea (I could not afford money for transport) I entered Issa's world. My sorrowful experience—my hurt feet, my sweating body, the heat, the lack of refreshing drinks, the "nostalgia"...helped me.
Now, Issa for me is the pain and the joy of the tramp, the lord of the bugs, of the frogs and of all the tiny and big flashes of Nature.
But he is not only a tender poet; he is also a warrior, a survivor. He succeeded to restore his house and to make his own family—because Issa was brave. PLEASE, do not try to analize Issa's poetry. He is GRANDE.