Federigo Tozzi: Specchi d’acqua / Pools of water

Specchi d’acqua

Federigo Tozzi

Ché tale diventa la creatura
quale è quella cosa che ama.
(Santa Caterina)

(1)
L’estate nuda mangia le sue pesche
su le messi tagliate e a terra spante;
e quando il vento, con le chiome fresche,
si butta tra le foglie delle piante,

una folgore pare il suo sorriso;
che torce le sue labbra e la sua fronte.
E, al vespero, ella accenna con il viso
e chiama su la luna all’orizzonte.

E mentre che le nubi basse e gialle,
muovendosi dal cielo glauco e calmo,
si addensan tutte sopra le sue spalle,
canta con la bocca enorme un salmo.

(2)
Col capo troppo carico di frutta,
Giugno ripiega il dorso magro,
e par che, dentro la sua bocca asciutta,
l’alito si diffonda in sapor agro.

Verso il tramonto d’oro, s’addormenta
inghirlandato di rosette rade,
ma la sua faccia giovine è scontenta,
il mattino, se un frutto acerbo cade.

(3)
Silenzio delle cose. Una pannocchia,
ricurva come fosse un pastorale,
si sforza di star ferma. Ma l’assale
il vento e scioglie la sua bionda crocchia.

Ed il cielo ne pare malcontento,
vuotandosi di tutto il suo turchino;
e l’orizzonte si riposa chino,
correr sentendo i brividi del vento.

Pools of water

Federigo Tozzi

For thus becomes the creature
which is that thing it loves.
(Saint Catherine)

(1)
The naked summer eats her* peaches
on harvests cut and spread on the leas;
and when the wind, with its fresh tresses,
plunges through the leaves of the trees,

like a flash of lightning is her smile,
which curls her lips and wrinkles her brow.
And, in the evening, she gives a sign
and calls up the moon in the horizon.

And while low clouds yellow in colour,
moving from calm cerulean heavens,
crowd together o’er her shoulders,
her enormous mouth chants a hymn.

(2)
With head overly heavy with fruit,
June arches her slight silhouette,
and it’s as if, within her parched mouth,
the breath emitted has a sour taste.

As the golden dusk draws nears, she sleeps
crowned by a wreath of sparse rosettes,
but her youthful expression is piqued,
at dawn, if unripe fruit plummets.

(3)
Silence of things. An ear of corn,
like a bishop’s staff completely curved,
struggles to remain still. But the wind
strikes at her and loosens her blond bun.

And for this the heavens seem displeased,
emptying all of their turquoise hues;
and the horizon reposes stooped,
running when hit by the chill of the wind.

Translation ©Matilda Colarossi 2024

These three poems are included in the book of songs called Specchi d’acqua by Federigo Tozzi.

We are, today, almost in summer, and I found the first three poems of the collection perfectly suited to the season to come and the feelings it moves in us.

Summer personified (she), summer as renewed life (much like in D’Annunzio’s collection Alycone, for example in the poem Stabat nuda aestas), and metamorphosis, as mentioned in the epigraph (by Saint Catherine): the soul aspiring to reunite and mirror itself in God.

It took me quite a while to translate the poems. Even the title is disappointing, for me. Specchi d’acqua means bodies of water, like a lake or pool, water in an enclosed space, but it contains the word mirror, and I feel it was important to Tozzi, this mirroring of the infinite beauty of creation, and it is lost, at least in my translation. I also had a hard time reproducing his rhymes. I opted for half-rhymes when I could, or no rhymes when even those were impossible. The other poetic devices (few, in fact) were easier to reproduce. -M.C.

More by Federigo Tozzi here:https://paralleltexts.blog/tag/federigo-tozzi/

This work is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 4.0