La mia sera

Giovanni Pascoli

Il giorno fu pieno di lampi;
ma ora verranno le stelle,
le tacite stelle. Nei campi
c’è un breve gre gre di ranelle.
Le tremule foglie dei pioppi
trascorre una gioia leggiera.
Nel giorno, che lampi! che scoppi!
Che pace, la sera!

Si devono aprire le stelle
nel cielo sì tenero e vivo.
Là, presso le allegre ranelle,
singhiozza monotono un rivo.
Di tutto quel cupo tumulto,
di tutta quell’aspra bufera,
non resta che un dolce singulto
nell’umida sera.

E’, quella infinita tempesta,
finita in un rivo canoro.
Dei fulmini fragili restano
cirri di porpora e d’oro.
O stanco dolore, riposa!
La nube nel giorno più nera
fu quella che vedo più rosa
nell’ultima sera.

Che voli di rondini intorno!
Che gridi nell’aria serena!
La fame del povero giorno
prolunga la garrula cena.
La parte, sì piccola, i nidi
nel giorno non l’ebbero intera.
Nè io … che voli, che gridi,
mia limpida sera!

Don … Don … E mi dicono, Dormi!
mi cantano, Dormi! sussurrano,
Dormi! bisbigliano, Dormi!
là, voci di tenebra azzurra …
Mi sembrano canti di culla,
che fanno ch’io torni com’era …
sentivo mia madre … poi nulla …
sul far della sera.

My night

Giovanni Pascoli

With lightning was the day aglow
but now in the sky will come the stars,
the quiet stars. And in the meadow
there is a ribbit ribbit of frogs.
The tremulous leaves of the poplar
are caressed with frolicsome delight.
During the day, what bolts! what thunder!
What peacefulness, at night!

And then comes the blossoming of stars
in the heavens mild and animate.
There, alongside the jubilant frogs,
sobs monotonous a rivulet.
And of all that ominous clamor,
of all that virulent squall, that plight,
remains nothing but a soft whimper
in the damp air of night.

It has now, that infinite tempest,
in a chanting brook come to a close.
Of the fragile lightning remain the
cirrus clouds of burgundy and gold.
Oh somnolent aching, lie to rest!
The cloud on that sad day with no light
was the one I see as rosiest
at the end of my night.

What flights of swallows all around!
What shrieks in the stillness of the air!
The hunger they suffered all day long
now protracts their garrulous supper.
Their part, oh so very small, the nests
did not fully consume in daylight.
And neither did I…what flights, what shrieks,
my very limpid night!

Bells…Bells…And they say to me, Be still!
they sing to me, Be still! they murmur,
Be still! they whisper to me, Be still!
there, voices of celestial darkness …
To me they sound like lullabies sung,
which take me again to times gone by…
I would hear my mother…then no-one…
with the falling of night.

 

.
Translation ©Matilda Colarossi

“During the day bolts of lightning and tempest; at night, the sky is calm, with stars and the sound of frogs. Pain is always followed by peace, from evil, good is always born; until night falls, the last night. It will seem, then, that we have become children again, and we hear our mother near our cradles, rocking us to sleep, and we make our way into the night.” Luigi Pietrobono (Poesie, Giovanni Pascoli, Mondadori, 1947, pp. 52)

The poem from the collection Canti di Castelvecchio.

Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

3 thoughts on “La mia sera/My night by Giovanni Pascoli

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