Picking up from last week’s post…from “For Annie” to “Elegy of Mount Spluga
| Elegia di Monte Spluga Giosuè Carducci No, forme non eran d’aer colorato né piante garrule e mosse al vento: ninfe eran tutte e dee. E quale[1] iva salendo volubile e cerula come velata emerse Teti da l’Egeo grande a Giove: e qual balzava da la palpitante scorza de’ pini rosea, I’agil donando florida chioma a l’aure: e qual da la cintura d’in cima a’ ghiacci diasprati sciogliea, nastri d’argento, le cascatelle allegre.[2] Sola in vett’a un gran masso di quarzo brillante al meriggio in disparte sedevi, Loreley pellegrina : solcavi l’aurea chioma con l’aureo pettine, lunga la chioma iva per l’alpe, vi ridea dentro il sole. In un tempio a larghe ombre di larici acuti le Fate stavan, occhi fiammanti ne la gemma de’ visi: serti di quercia al crine su le nere clamidi nero, scettri avean d’oro in mano: riguardavano me. Orco umano, che sali da’ piani fumanti di tedio, noi la ti demmo : aveva gli occhi color del mare. Or tu ne vieni solo. Che festi di nostra sorella? I’hai divorata?- E fise riguardavan pur me. No, temibili Fate, no, soavi ninfe, lo giuro: ella è volata fuori de la veduta mia. Ma la sua forma vive, ma palpita l’alma sua vita ne le mie vene, in cima de la mia mente siede. Con la imagine sua dinanzi da gli occhi tuttora che mi arde, con la voce che dentro il cor mi ammalia, suono di primavera su ‘I tepido aprile dormente, erro soletto il mondo, tutto di lei l’impronto. Ecco, voi Fate e ninfe, paretemi, e siete, lei sola: anzi in mia visïone v’ho create io di lei. Ma ella dove esiste? – Lamenti scoppiarono, e via sparver le ninfe in aria, via sotterra le Fate. E vidi su gli abeti danzar li scoiattoli, e udii sprigionate co’ musi le marmotte fischiare. E mi trovai soletto là dove perdevasi un piano brullo tra calve rupi: quasi un anfiteatro ove elementi un giorno lottarono e secoli. Or tace tutto: da’ pigri stagni pigro si svolve un fiume : erran cavalli magri su le magre acque: aconìto, perfido azzurro fiore, veste la grigia riva. Spluga, 1-4 settembre 1898 | Elegy of Monte Spluga Giosuè Carducci No, forms were not of coloured air, nor plants garrulous and moved by the wind: all were nymphs and goddesses. And one blue bugle rising light and cerulean as the veiled Thetis emerged from the great Aegean to Jove: and one leapt from the throbbing bark of the rosy pines, the lithe bestowing florid locks to the auras: and one from the sash above the jaspery ice dissolved, ribbons of silver, the merry waterfalls. Alone on the summit of a great boulder of glistening quartz at noon you sat alone, wandering Lorelei: you furrowed your golden hair with your golden comb, long the locks of blue bugle along the alps, the sun laughed within you. In a temple of large shadows of pointed larches the Fairies stood, eyes aflame in the gem of faces: wreathes of oak on tresses on black cloaks black, sceptres of gold they held in hand: they glared at me. Human ogre, who climb from the plains fuming with tedium, we gave her to you: she had eyes the colour of the sea. Now you come here alone. What did you do with our sister? Did you devour her? – And intently now they glared at me. No, fearful Fairies, no, sweet nymphs, I swear: she flew out of my sight. But her form lives, but her soul pulses life in my veins, forever upon my mind she sits. With her image before my eyes even now that warms me, with her voice that within my heart enchants me, sound of spring on the tepid and sleepy April, I wander all alone in the world, all about the impression of her. So, fairies and nymphs, you seem, and are, her alone: Or rather, in my vision I created you of her. But where does she exist? – A burst of laments, and away faded the nymphs in the air, away underground the Fairies. And on the fir-trees I saw squirrels dancing, and I heard from the mouths of the marmots whistling. And I found myself all alone where a baren plain disappeared among bald cliffs: almost an amphitheatre where elements one day fought and centuries. Now all is silent: from lazy ponds lazy flows a river: they were thin horses on the thin waters: aconitum,[1] perfidious azure flower, swathes the grey bank. Translation © Matilda Colarossi 2024 |
Picking up from last week’s post, the relationship between Giosuè Carducci and Annie Vivanti comes to an end in 1889, and the two separate.
From Genoa, Annie writes to the poet: “…the thought of You is excruciating, and consoles me. Wait for me! I will return to ask for the love you feel for me. I say goodbye to Italy with many tears” (August 25).
From Madesimo, Carducci replies with the poem “Elegia di Monte Spluga”. It is the most intense and modern poem of his last years of life. He writes to the publisher Severino that it is “the elegy of fairies and nymphs, or, truly, of mount Spluga, or, if you like, of squirrels and marmots” (September 5), and also, “Never was the romantic so classical”.[4] The protagonist of the poem awakens from a reverie and then slowly goes on to tell the story of what he has seen. They are not apparitions but actual nymphs and goddesses (later he calls them “fate”, fairies). Solitude and also fear of that solitude among those hills dominates the poem.
The poet is “l’Orco” (literally, the ogre, the nickname Annie had given him) who is accused by the nymphs of having devoured their most beautiful sister. He responds that no, Lorelei (Lorelei, siren of Germanic mythology, of great beauty and delicious song), Annie, flew away from him, but he holds her forever in his heart.
It’s so interesting to see how the poem evolves. In the first part he sees fairies and nymphs, lovely creatures which he describes in the most classical of ways; in the second part, the fairies are dark, threatening, the colour black dominates the verses, and we have an interrogation of sorts; the last section is the saddest and along with a deep understanding of the poet’s great solitude (not only “solo”, but “soletto” which refers to a person who is all alone, without anyone at all), we also understand his thoughts of death. – M.C.
[1] There is here a strong similarity with Francesco Petrarch’s “Chiare, fresche et dolci acque”, his most famous song from ”Canzoniere” (1340 e il 1341): “Qual fior cadea sul lembo, / qual su le treccie bionde, / ch’oro forbito et perle / eran quel dì a vederle; / qual si posava in terra, et qual su l’onde; / qual con un vago errore / girando parea dir: Qui regna Amore.”
[2] For some reason, this stanza and the two before it also reminded me of Petrarch. This time “Erano i capei d’oro a l’aura sparsi”, sonnet number XC (90) from Francesco Petrarch’s “Canzoniere”, in which he praises Laura’s angelic beauty and justifies his love for her: “Erano i capei d’oro a l’aura sparsi / che ’n mille dolci nodi gli avolgea, / e ’l vago lume oltra misura ardea / di quei begli occhi, ch’or ne son sì scarsi; // e ’l viso di pietosi color’ farsi,/ non so se vero o falso, mi parea: / i’ che l’esca amorosa al petto avea, / qual meraviglia se di sùbito arsi?”
[3] Aconitum, “purple poison”, is deadly; it represents death.
[4] Giosue Carducci Annie Vivanti, Lettere e ricordi (1889-1906), curated by Anna Folli. Milan: Feltrinelli, 2004.
For more information about L’ELEGIA DEL MONTE SPLUGA: http://www.francescogiuliani.net/elegia_monte_spluga_carducci.htm
Picture: Lorelei, Markscheider, 21:55, 31 October 2012
This work is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 
parallel texts: words reflected 
