Forse un mattino andando in un’aria di vetro

Eugenio Montale


Forse un mattino andando in un’aria di vetro,
arida, rivolgendomi, vedrò compirsi il miracolo:
il nulla alle mie spalle, il vuoto dietro
di me, con un terrore di ubriaco.

Poi come s’uno schermo, s’accamperanno di gitto
alberi case colli per l’inganno consueto.
Ma sarà troppo tardi; ed io me n’andrò zitto
tra gli uomini che non si voltano, col mio segreto.

One morning perhaps as I move in an air of glass

Eugenio Montale


One morning perhaps as I move in an air of glass,
arid, I, turning, shall witness the miracle:
the void behind me, the nothingness passed,
with the dizzy terror of the drinker.

Then like on a screen, there will appear out of the blue
trees houses hills and all the usual deceit.
But it will be too late; and in silence I shall move
among the men who do not turn, with my secret.


Translation ©Matilda Colarossi

The rarefied atmosphere, an “air of glass“, of a winter morning gives the poem an unreal character, one of fantastic evasion in which Montale understands the total futility, the “void behind me, the nothingness passed“, of life. And as in life, he continues to walk alone, “in silence” with those who are indifferent to that fact, who “do not turn“, but who choose to live in the “usual deceit” and superficiality. The poem was written on July 12th, 1923, and it can be found in the collection of poems Ossi di sepia [Cuttlebones] by the same author.

Inspired by the poet Camillo Sbarbaro, we find the same desolation, the deceit “inganno” of society in the poem Talora mentre cammino per le strade , found here.


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One thought on “Forse un mattino…/One morning perhaps as I move in an air of glass by Eugenio Montale

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