Selected Poems of Giovanni Pascoli
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. . . almost despairing. My return marked a half century of my life, and what lasting good have I done, since leaving here? And in the few remaining years I may have left, inevitably less alive and vital, what more am I going to do? Feeling sad and dark . . . I took a walk near my house the other morning, staring at cobblestones. When I looked up, a large stone cross was before me.
. . . The great city stretched out at the foot of this cross, just there, and yet it seemed distant, as if I saw it in a dream. I couldn’t see everything, but only parts, and so it seemed infinite. A light fog hovered over the city, and winter sun gilded its edges. The outlines of the vast temples and tall towers were clear: before me the slender Asinelli Tower rose up through the misty turquoise air, wounding it. Here and there, the faint, sweet sound of bells seemed the voice of poetry over the stillness of history.
And my old Bologna spoke to my heart, and seemed to be saying, ‘Don’t you see? I’m Bologna. Don’t you remember? Your youth is here. Your poor youth that you didn’t truly live—I’ve saved it for you. It’s here. There are bits of it everywhere, here, in the streets and in the squares, in houses and churches, on the old university grounds, even in [your prison cell in] San Giovanni in Monte. It’s here. You were right to come back and reclaim what you left. Take heart!’”
L’ultimo frutto / Last Fruit (OH 1906)
A Horatian ode using the Alcaic stanza, this poem was first published as “La sorba” [“The sorb fruit”] in an 1899 wedding pamphlet. The word “sorbole,” which derives from the word for the fruit, is a common exclamation in the Bolognese dialect, expressing surprise or marvel. Pascoli changed the title to “The Last Fruit” when he included it in Odes and Hymns. The sorb tree, Sorbus domesticus, is common throughout Europe; its tart fruit, edible only when overripe, was mentioned by Virgil in the third Georgic. Until recently, it was used to make a common alcoholic drink in the Italian countryside.
l. 9 urlano aspre le raffiche [the dry wind howls]: In his glossary, Pascoli defines aspro as “dried up and made rough by the sun. Whereas asprura indicates dry grass that one can slide down.”
Other unusual terms include ll. 1, 3: corimbi [vine]—a botanical term of Greek origin, from korumbos, meaning “cluster”; ll. 11, 12: bugno [hive]—probably of Celtic origin; l. 13: lazza [unripe]—from the Latin lacteus, for plants with a flavor of soured milk; l. 13: vergine [girl]: even in Pascoli’s time, vergine, from the Latin, would not have been used in a nonliterary context to refer to a girl; ll. 18, 19: liba [will sip]—a literary term from the Latin, meaning “to drink in a ritualistic setting.” All these words give a classical idyllic tone to the intimate country scene.
Il cane notturno / The Night Dog (OH 1906)
Like “Last Fruit,” this is a Horatian ode using the Alcaic stanza.
l. 3—Serchio: the third longest Tuscan river, running through the Garfagnana region below Castelvecchio.
Unusual terms in the poem include ll. 9, 10: bussolo [boxwood]—a Tuscan variant of the Italian bosso or bossolo; l. 15: oriuolo [clock]—Tuscan dialect for orologio; l. 26: zana [crib]—a Tuscan word of Longobard origin. A zana is a basket made from thin strips of alder wood, and it was sometimes used as a crib; l. 34: viottole [lanes]—diminutive form of the Italian via [road] to indicate a narrow country lane.
Crisantemi / Crysanthemums (OH 1913)
This Sapphic ode was first published in Il convito in 1896, and (on the poet’s instruction) included by Maria Pascoli in the third, posthumous edition of Odes and Hymns.
l. 5 Quel rosaio dov’era dunque? [Where . . . were the roses?]: In the second stanza, the question’s verb tense shifts from present to past, suggesting the memory of a bloom no longer there.
(Nuovi poemetti / NEW LITTLE POEMS)
First published in 1909, Pascoli dedicated the book to his students in Matera, Massa, Livorno, Messina, Pisa, and Bologna. The second (final) edition of the book was published in 1911. All the poems are in terza rima.
Il naufrago / The Drowned (NP 1907)
Originally appeared in Il Marzocco in 1906.
Section IV, l. 3 figli del rosso Adamo [Children of clay]: the literal translation is “children of red Adam,” and the phrase echoes a line from the 1899 poem “La guerra” [“The War”] by Carducci: Dal rosso Adamo crebbe a l’esilio / il lavorante primo [From red Adam, the first worker / grew up in exile]. Pascoli himself referenced red clay in his 1906 poem “La pietà” [“The Devotion”]: Moveva Adam le zolle donde egli era. / La terra rossa percotea la nera [Adam turned the clumps of dirt where he stood. / Red clay hoed the black earth]. In “Il fanciullino,” Pascoli writes about the poet as a child who is “the Adam who first gives names to what he sees and feels.”
Section IV, l.5 il vento che ci schiaccia [wind that compounds us, collides us]: In his glossary, Pascoli writes that schiacciare means “to crush,” and adds that “one crushes gravel,” comparing the verb to its archaic, dialectal form schicciare [to crack], with the example that “one cracks nuts.” He cites as his source Zi Meo [Uncle Meo], a neighbor in Castelvecchio affectionately known for his dialectal expressions and country lore.
(Poesie varie / VARIOUS POEMS)
The first edition was curated by Maria Pascoli and published in 1912. Later editions were published in 1914, 1920, and 1923, with more poems added. In 1914, Maria Pascoli wrote a preface to the book: “And so, trembling, I present some of his youthful verses, pulled mostly from old manuscripts and newspapers. I also offer poems about family, some very old and some less so. . . . Other poems follow, that he had not yet polished. . . . I open the
book with his last poem, written from his great love for our country. . . . Our soldiers and sailors still fighting in Libya read these sweet odes in the trenches . . . (they themselves wrote to tell him as much). . . . I always hear
a certain line he would repeat, with a wing-like speed: ‘Italy! Italy that flies!’ ”
L’amorosa giornata / The Loving Day (VP 1912)
These linked madrigals in terza rima were written in Massa in 1895 and first published in the Livorno-based journal Cronaca minima in 1887. The poem may have been inspired by Barbara Papini. Pascoli, apparently infatuated with the young woman, purposefully passed by her family’s villa alongside the Frigido River on his walk to work in Massa each day. Others suggest it was inspired by Erminia Tognacci, Pascoli’s childhood sweetheart in San Mauro, who died eight years before this poem was written.
l. 19 E le rondini zillano alle gronde [And the swallows who chirr from the eaves]: zillare is a technical term used to indicate the strident song of insects, whereas zirlare indicates a sound made by birds, especially thrushes. In lines 25–27, Pascoli chooses the verb less often used for birdsong to describe the swallows’ sound:
Chi nel cielo, cui corre il maestrale,
il lento oblìo, l’opaca notte arresta?
Canta l’inconsapevole foresta.
Who in the sky, where the north wind flies,
could stop night’s approach and the slow loss
of memory? The answerless forest keeps singing.
The grammar in this stanza is ambiguous. It could equally mean “Who is stopped (in the sky) by night’s approach and the slow loss / of memory?” The grammatical equivocation calls to mind Pascoli’s larger ambivalence toward religious faith. One reading suggests that human memory is lost when the mind stops. In an alternate reading, the line suggests there is a presence—the “who in the sky”—more powerful than the approach of night, a presence that can contain and perpetuate memory. Thinking of Walter Benjamin’s theory in his essay “The Task of the Translator” that there could be such a thing as God’s memory to bring our finite memories into a permanent present tense, I have translated the stanza to suggest this second possibility.
A una giovinetta (cartolina) / To a Girl (Postcard) (VP 1914)
Written on a postcard dated April 9, 1904, the poem was sent to a young woman named Maria Baldoni, who replied by postcard to thank the poet on April
12. Pascoli often wrote poems on postcards for acquaintances and to mark special occasions.
Il poeta ozioso / The Idle Poet (VP 1912)
Written before 1895, first publication unknown; the printed poem in the Pascoli archives bears no date or name.
ll. 1–2 L’arpa d’oro / pende ai salici [Harp of gold / the willow holds]: This image recalls Pascoli’s resistance to Walt Whitman’s advocacy for free verse. Like Whitman, Pascoli analogizes prosody to landscape, and in his 1900 letter to Giuseppe Chiarini (published in Regole e saggi di metrica neoclassica) Pascoli asks: “Do the Amazon and Plata Rivers not flow rhythmically over there?
. . . Whitman derives his poetry from the Bible . . . and Bible verses are constructed toward consideration of the rhythms of Hebrew, which were marked by the sound of harps: those harps which cantors once hung from the branches of willow trees, trees that grew alongside Babylon’s rivers. . . .”
Selected Bibliography of Giovanni Pascoli’s Poetry
Myricae (1891; later editions with authorial revision: 1892, 1894, 1897, 1899, 1900, 1905, 1908, 1911)
Poemetti (1897; later editions with authorial revision: 1900, 1904—as Primi poemetti)
Canti di Castelvecchio (1903; later editions with authorial revision: 1905, 1907, 1910, 1912)
Poemi conviviali (1904; later editions with authorial revision: 1905, 1910)
Odi e inni (1906; later editions with authorial revision: 1907, 1913 (revised by Maria Pascoli with Giovanni’s instructions)
Le canzoni di re Enzio (1909)
Nuovi poemetti (1909; later edition with authorial revision: 1911)
Poemi italici (1911)
Poemi del Risorgimento (1913, edited by Maria Pascoli)
Poemi italici e Canzoni di re Enzio (1914, edited by Maria Pascoli; later edition with revisions: 1920)
Poesie varie (1912, selected by Maria Pascoli; later editions with revisions: 1914, 1920, 1923)
The Lockert Library of Poetry in Translation
George Seferis: Collected Poems, 1924–1955, translated, edited, and introduced by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard
The Collected Poems of Lucio Piccolo, translated and edited by Brian Swann and Ruth Feldman
C.P. Cavafy: Collected Poems, translated by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard and edited by George Savidis
Benny Andersen: Selected Poems, translated by Alexander Taylor
Selected Poetry of Andrea Zanzotto, edited and translated by Ruth Feldman and Brian Swann
Poems of René Char, translated and annotated by Mary Ann Caws and Jonathan Griffin†
Selected Poems of Tudor Arghezi, translated by Michael Impey and Brian Swann
“The Survivor” and Other Poems, by Tadeusz Różewicz, translated and introduced by Magnus J. Krynski and Robert A. Maguire
“Harsh World” and Other Poems, by Ángel González, translated by Donald D. Walsh
Ritsos in Parentheses, translated and introduced by Edmund Keeley
Salamander: Selected Poems of Robert Marteau, translated by Anne Winters
Angelos Sikelianos: Selected Poems, translated and introduced by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard†
Dante’s “Rime,” translated by Patrick S. Diehl
Selected Later Poems of Marie Luise Kaschnitz, translated by Lisel Mueller
Osip Mandelstam’s “Stone,” translated and introduced by Robert Tracy†
The Dawn Is Always New: Selected Poetry of Rocco Scotellaro, translated by Ruth Feldman and Brian Swann
Sounds, Feelings, Thoughts: Seventy Poems by Wisława Szymborska, translated and introduced by Magnus J. Krynski and Robert A. Maguire
George Seferis: Collected Poems, 1924–1955, Expanded Edition [bilingual], translated, edited, and introduced by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard
The Man I Pretend to Be: “The Colloquies” and Selected Poems of Guido Gozzano, translated and edited by Michael Palma, with an introductory essay by Eugenio Montale
D’Après Tout: Poems by Jean Follain, translated by Heather McHugh†
Songs of Something Else: Selected Poems of Gunnar Ekelöf, translated by Leonard Nathan and James Larson
The Little Treasury of One Hundred People, One Poem Each, compiled by Fujiwara No Sadaie and translated by Tom Galt†
The Ellipse: Selected Poems of Leonardo Sinisgalli, translated by W. S. Di Piero†
The Difficult Days by Roberto Sosa, translated by Jim Lindsey
Hymns and Fragments by Friedrich Hölderin, translated and introduced by Richard Sieburth
The Silence Afterwards: Selected Poems of Rolf Jacobsen, translated and edited by Roger Greenwald†
Rilke: Between Roots, selected poems rendered from the German by Rika Lesser†
In the Storm of Roses: Selected Poems, by Ingeborg Bachmann, translated, edited, and introduced by Mark Anderson†
Birds and Other Relations: Selected Poetry of Dezső Tandori, translated by Bruce Berlind
Brocade River Poems: Selected Works of the Tang Dynasty Courtesan Xue
Tao, translated and introduced by Jeanne Larsen
The True Subject: Selected Poems of Faiz Ahmed Faiz, translated by Naomi Lazard
My Name on the Wind: Selected Poems of Diego Valeri, translated by Michael Palma
Aeschylus: The Suppliants, translated by Peter Burian
C. P. Cavafy: Collected Poems, Revised Edition, translated and introduced by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard, edited by George Savidis
Foamy Sky: The Major Poems of Miklós Radnóti, selected and translated by Zsuzsanna Ozsváth and Frederick Turner†
La Fontaine’s Bawdy: Of Libertines, Louts, and Lechers, translated by Norman R. Shapiro†
A Child Is Not a Knife: Selected Poems of Göran Sonnevi, translated and edited by Rika Lesser
George Seferis: Collected Poems, Revised Edition [English only], translated, edited, and introduced by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard
Selected Poems of Shmuel HaNagid, translated by Peter Cole
The Late Poems of Meng Chiao, translated by David Hinton
Leopardi: Selected Poems, translated by Eamon Grennan
Through Naked Branches: Selected Poems of Tarjei Vesaas, translated and edited by Roger Greenwald†
The Complete Odes and Satires of Horace, translated with introduction and notes by Sidney Alexander
Selected Poems of Solomon Ibn Gabirol, translated by Peter Cole Puerilities: Erotic Epigrams of “The Greek Anthology,” translated by Daryl Hine
Night Journey by María Negroni, translated by Anne Twitty
The Poetess Counts to 100 and Bows Out: Selected Poems by Ana Enriqueta Terán, translated by Marcel Smith
Nothing Is Lost: Selected Poems by Edvard Kocbek, translated by Michael Scammell and Veno Taufer, and introduced by Michael Scammell, with a foreword by Charles Simic
The Complete Elegies of Sextus Propertius, translated with introduction and notes by Vincent Katz
Knowing the East, by Paul Claudel, translated with an introduction by James Lawler
Enough to Say It’s Far: Selected Poems of Pak Chaesam, translated by David R. McCann and Jiwon Shin
In Hora Mortis/Under the Iron of the Moon: Poems, by Thomas Bernhard, translated by James Reidel
The Greener Meadow: Selected Poems by Luciano Erba, translated by Peter Robinson
The Dream of the Poem: Hebrew Poetry from Muslim and Christian Spain, 950–1492, translated, edited, and introduced by Peter Cole The Collected Lyric Poems of Luís de Camões, translated by Landeg White
C. P. Cavafy: Collected Poems, Bilingual Edition, translated by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard, edited by George Savidis, with a new preface by Robert Pinsky
Poems Under Saturn: Poèmes saturniens, by Paul Verlaine, translated and with an introduction by Karl Kirchwey
Final Matters: Selected Poems, 2004–2010, by Szilárd Borbély, translated by Ottilie Mulzet
Selected Poems of Giovanni Pascoli, translated by Taije Silverman with Marina Della Putta Johnston