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Annual Event dedicated to the poet
Vincenzo Cardarelli, held in Tarquinia, Italy |
Continuing with our presentation of poems by Vincenzo Cardarelli, with the season of Fall as a theme, here is
the remarkable
October, in which the poet decidedly switches gears, when compared to
Autunno (Autumn). With a change in tone, the lengthy, melancholic farewell gives space and breath to a new, mellow, voluptuous sentiment; the intimate awareness of a full maturity that precedes senility leaves behind the labored worries of youth and adulthood. Presently, the poet rejoices in the allegoric smell of the pungent odor of must and wine. It is already the time to abandon himself to a leisurely idleness, and sweet contemplation. In the vineyards, the grapes have been already harvested. 'Plundered' is the word, that evokes a loss, which nonetheless has been acknowledged, if not yet accepted. The sun is rather shiny than hot; color takes over warmth, just as rational understanding triumphs over passion in the meditative mind.
October
Once, it was in Summer,
it was at that fire, at those ardors,
that my imagination awakened.
I incline now towards Autumn
of a color that raptures;
I love the tired season
which has already harvested the grapes.
No other thing resembles me more,
nothing consoles me more,
than this air that odors
of must and wine,
of this old sun of October
shining in the plundered vineyards.
Unexpected Autumn sun,
shining as in a beyond world,
with tender perdition
and vagabond happiness,
you find us exhausted,
braced for the worst and with sorrowful souls.
This is precisely why we cherish you,
vague, surviving sun:
you know not how to bid us farewell
coming back every morning
like a renewed miracle,
the prettier the more you fade
and are about to expire.
And with these stunning days
you compose your own season
which is thoroughly a sweet agony.
From the collection "Poesie", 1942, by Vincenzo Cardarelli.
From "Vincenzo Cardarelli: The Forgotten amongst the Great. A Collection of the Best Poems by Vincenzo Cardarelli, Translated in English," available as e-book on Amazon Kindle, iPhone, iPad, or iPod touch, on NOOK Book, on Kobo, and as printed, traditional edition through Lulu.
Original text in Italian:
Ottobre
Un tempo, era d’estate,
era a quel fuoco, a quegli ardori,
che si destava la mia fantasia.
Inclino adesso all’autunno
dal colore che inebria;
amo la stanca stagione
che ha già vendemmiato.
Niente più mi somiglia,
nulla più mi consola,
di quest’aria che odora
di mosto e di vino,
di questo vecchio sole ottobrino
che splende nelle vigne saccheggiate.
Sole d'autunno inatteso,
che splendi come in un di là,
con tenera perdizione
e vagabonda felicità,
tu ci trovi fiaccati,
vòlti al peggio e la morte nell'anima.
Ecco perché ci piaci,
vago sole superstite
che non sai dirci addio,
tornando ogni mattina
come un nuovo miracolo,
tanto più bello quanto più t'inoltri
e sei lì per spirare.
E di queste incredibili giornate
vai componendo la tua stagione
ch'è tutta una dolcissima agonia.
Vincenzo Cardarelli, dalla raccolta "Poesie", 1942
