Homo homini lupus non est. Plautus stultus erat. Lupus est animal insons. In veritate, homo homini homo est. Et nihil est peior quam homo. Hoc maxime verum est.

Addendum I (November 15, 2014)

The realization that there are no beasts worst than humans has been with me for much of my life. If I remember correctly, it first dawned on me in my late teens, when I was struggling to understand World War II as it unfolded in Yugoslavia of old. The untold atrocities committed during the war were difficult for me to fathom back then. Still, the realization that humans are the worst beasts on earth has resurfaced during the civil war in the Balkans (“In Praise of Bestiality,” October 5, 1993). To my shame, I put it into no uncertain words only some seven years ago (“Homo homini,” December 25, 2007). I only revisited my accusation in this haiku, but it has been with me ever since. I cannot shake it out of my mind any longer. Wherever I look, I return to it over and over again. Indeed, there is nothing worst than my own species. Of course, this also holds for some humans I know very well (“Homo homini homo,” November 15, 2014). Having said all this once again, I cannot but wonder how can I look into my own eyes in the mirror without screaming my head off with fear.

Addendum II (April 13, 2016)

About a year ago, I put my favorite haiku into the archive folder on my mobile phone. It is a pleasure to know that it is always there. Deep pleasure. Every now and then, I go to the folder, open the file with the haiku, and read it aloud. Even though I know it by heart, I enjoy reading it word for word. The Latin feels soothing each and every time. My favorite line is the fifth and penultimate one. More often than not, I nod to myself as I read it in a solemn voice. This confirms the haiku’s ghastly message. And with feeling.

Addendum III (January 3, 2019)

The last year or two, I return to my favorite haiku ever more often. Whenever it crosses my mind, I recite it as loudly as circumstances permit. If I am alone at home, it echoes all around me. And if I am walking along a busy street, I make sure that passersby cannot hear me. But it is an immense joy to pronounce each and every Latin word with all the care it deserves, not to mention the conviction with which I pronounce them. When I come to the penultimate sentence, I nod in earnest without fail. By now, my conviction is unshakable. Indeed, there is nothing worse than the human race.