Lord, the Roman hyacinths blooming in pots
and the winter sun packages sparse snowfall:
the stubborn season spreads ...
My life is waiting for the light wind of death
as a feather on the back of his hand.
dust in the sun and the memory in the corners
await the cold wind that runs to the desert land.
Grant us peace.
walked Many years within these walls,
I kept faith and fasting provvedetti
to the poor, and I made honor and ease.
No one was rejected at my door.
Who will my roof where the children will live with my sons
when the day of pain?
taking the path of the goats, the den of foxes
fleeing the unknown faces and the foreign swords.
Before long rods and strings and wailing
grant us your peace.
Before it is to park in the desolate mountains,
before it reaches the time of a breast pain,
in this age of birth and death
to the Son, the Word does not even pronouncing and unpronounceable
give the consolation of Israel
a man who is eighty years old and has not tomorrow. According to his promise
who praises you suffer in every generation,
between glory and scorn, light on light,
and scale of the saints ascend.
not martyrdom for me, ecstasy of thought and prayer-
neither extreme view.
Grant peace.
(And a sword will your heart
even your heart).
I'm tired of my life and the lives of those who come.
Muoio of my death and that of those who then die.
Fa 'your servant starting
see your salvation.
Montale, as well as a poet and a great analyst ... sensitive soul, was also fine translator. Knower of Eliot (of his imagination before and after conversion of its vocabulary, the poetics of the 'objective correlative', a reflection of the interior exterior landscape) offers a strong and faithful version of the original poem.
Only a few, among the things to note: The 1st edition of Eliot's poetry appears in the "Ariel Poems", n.16, London, Faber & Gwyer, 1928, with drawings E. McKnight Kauffer.
old Simeon, referred to in text, as well as a transference of Eliot himself, and can transfer to each player, is actually a historical figure, also in Luke 2:25 ff;
the situation is the Presentation of Christ child to the temple
"2:25 There was a man in Jerusalem named Simeon, this man was righteous and devout, waiting for the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit was upon him; 26 and had been revealed by the Spirit
Holy that would not die until you have seen the Lord's Christ. 27 He, moved by the Spirit, he went into the temple, and, as the parents brought the baby Jesus to fulfill the requirements of the law concerning it, 28 took him in her arms, and blessed God, saying
29 "Now, O my Lord, you let your servant go in peace according to thy word, 30 for mine eyes have seen your salvation, 31 which have the presence of all 32 nations to be light to illuminate the people and the glory of your people Israel. "
33 The father and mother were amazed at what was said about him. 34 And Simeon blessed them and said to Mary his mother: "Behold, he is set to elevation and fall of many in Israel as a sign of contradiction 35 (and yourself a sword will pierce your soul), so that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed. "
Returning to the poem: the backgrounds are particularly evocative winter "the winter sun sparse snowfall in the hills ... the stubborn season spreads."
Here, "I kept faith and fasting, the poor provvedetti" echoes the more schematic normativity of the old law, in perfect contrast to the spiritual revolution in the dialectic Legge-Grazia/AT-NT brought by Christ, here child, spiritually recognized by Simeon and prophetic notes with hints to future events.
The name-identification Son / Word (Word which creates and recreates) echoes the opening words of the Gospel of John. Eliot's poem adds an accent character to Simeon, who has faith and hope even in the frailty of his 80 years, but expresses a fear (and basically a description of this): "Who will think of my roof where the children will live My children, when the day of pain? taking the path of the goats, the den of foxes fleeing the unknown faces and swords foreign "accent ... which makes it more human and realistic experience by all people concerned if the fate of their loved ones' faces between unknown and foreign swords', and the fate of their land, without reference points. Again, towards the beginning of the poem "the wind that runs cold to the desert land" sounds like a quote within the same symbolic story of Eliot's poetry, famous Wasteland.
posted by Josh on The Garden of the Hesperides
http://esperidi.blogspot.com/2010/01/lostinata-stagione-si-diffonde.html
