Mattinata

Arturo Onofri

Lo senti il sapore dell’aria, stamani!
È un sapore d’erba e d’arancia,
come i giardini di favola
che dormono in balsamo ancora
nella nostra memoria infantile.
Arieggia, il tuo gesto ilare,
l’ombra oscillante del salice;
e all’insaputa fai cenno
alle curve lontane dei monti
che il vento assiepato nasconde d’azzurro.
Ma il tuo dolce brio forse allude
al fiato di neve irreale
che esalano fino quaggiù
i paesi che cela il sole,
nelle lontananze gelate.
Non canta un uccello, e siamo così felici!
Una favilla traluce dal cuor del ciottolo
che il tuo passo scavalca senza distrarsi,
e intanto nell’erba assorta
circola e trema improvviso
il soffio che vi dormiva.
Senti? Questa è la voce
che non l’orecchio intende
ma il trasalire solo del tuo silenzio
dedito al sogno celeste della musica.
Questo è il mattino
color del mio brivido.
Ed io con parole innocenti
vado come palpando
i fuggitivi contatti di questi momenti col cielo:
sono altrettanti saluti d’amore
al bel clima di felicità silenziosa
specchiata nel giro del nostro orizzonte.

.

Morning

Arturo Onofri

Do you taste the tang of the air this morning?
It is the tang of herbs and oranges,
like the fanciful gardens
which slumber still embalmed
in our childhood memory.
Aloft is your ecstatic gest,
the swaying shadow of the willow;
and unwittingly you motion
to the bows of the distant hills
which the skirting wind veils in an azure haze.
But your gentle exuberance alludes perhaps
to the breath of illusory snows
which are breathed far below
by towns hidden by the sun,
in the icy distances.
No bird is singing, and we are so blissful!
A spark glistens from the core of the cobble
over which you skip undistracted,
in the meantime in the awestruck grass
is circling and trembling suddenly
the breeze that lay there sleeping.
Do you hear? This is the voice
which not the ear does heed
but the wonder solely of your silence
devoted to the celestial dream of music.
This is the morning
colour of my stirring.
And I with innocent words
advance as if grasping
the fugitive contacts of these moments with the sky:
they are also greetings of love
to the mild climate of silent elation
reflected in the circle of our horizon.

.
Translation ©Matilda Colarossi

Arturo Onofri was born in Rome in 1885. He was one of the founders of the short-lived review Lirica(1912). Onofri belongs to the first generation of 20th century poets, who were influenced by, and expanded upon French symbolism, and who worked towards a new language which would renew Italian poetry. The poem Mattinata is from the collection Ariosa.

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