{"id":12739,"date":"2016-10-21T11:29:02","date_gmt":"2016-10-21T09:29:02","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/italian\/?p=12739"},"modified":"2016-10-22T14:06:39","modified_gmt":"2016-10-22T12:06:39","slug":"ottobre-a-poem","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/italian\/ottobre-a-poem\/","title":{"rendered":"Ottobre – A Poem"},"content":{"rendered":"

Every season has its own beauty. Autumn brings exhilarating colours, the smell of must and wine, and the miracle of the sun ‘that can’t bid us farewell, returning every morning like a new miracle’<\/i>.<\/span><\/p>\n

These are the thoughts expressed by the poet Vincenzo Cardarelli<\/b><\/a><\/span><\/span> (1887-1960) in his poem Ottobre<\/b>, which he wrote in the autumn of his own life.<\/p>\n

\"Ottobre,<\/a>

Ottobre, vicino a casa nostra.<\/em><\/span><\/p><\/div>\n

English translation \u00a9 Serena and Geoff. All Photos \u00a9 Geoff Chamberlain
\n<\/i><\/p>\n

Ottobre di Vincenzo Cardarelli<\/b><\/span><\/p>\n

Un tempo, era d\u2019estate,
\nera a quel fuoco, a quegli ardori,
\nche si destava la mia fantasia.
\nInclino adesso all\u2019autunno
\ndal colore che inebria,
\namo la stanca stagione
\nche ha gi\u00e0 vendemmiato.
\nNiente pi\u00f9 mi somiglia,
\nnulla pi\u00f9 mi consola,
\ndi quest\u2019aria che odora
\ndi mosto e di vino,
\ndi questo vecchio sole ottobrino
\nche splende sulle vigne saccheggiate.<\/b><\/p>\n

October by Vincenzo Cardarelli<\/span><\/p>\n

Once upon a time, it was the summer,
\nthat fire, those passions,
\nthat awoke my fantasy.
\nNow I lean towards the autumn
\nwith its exhilarating colour,
\nI love the tired season
\nwith the grapes already gathered.
\nNothing is more like me,
\nnothing consoles me more,
\nthan this air that smells
\nof must and wine,
\nthan this old October sun
\nthat shines upon the looted vines.<\/p>\n

\"Ottobre,<\/a>

Ottobre, Valdantena.<\/span><\/em><\/p><\/div>\n

Sole d\u2019autunno inatteso,
\nche splendi come in un di l\u00e0,
\ncon tenera perdizione
\ne vagabonda felicit\u00e0,
\ntu ci trovi fiaccati,
\nv\u00f2lti al peggio e la morte nell\u2019anima.
\nEcco perch\u00e9 ci piaci,
\nvago sole superstite
\nche non sai dirci addio,
\ntornando ogni mattina
\ncome un nuovo miracolo,
\ntanto pi\u00f9 bello quanto pi\u00f9 t\u2019inoltri
\ne sei l\u00ec per spirare.
\nE di queste incredibili giornate
\nvai componendo la tua stagione
\nch\u2019\u00e8 tutta una dolcissima agonia.<\/b><\/p>\n

Unexpected autumn sun,
\nthat shines as if from the beyond,
\nwith tender perdition
\nand vagrant happiness,
\nyou find us exhausted,
\nturned towards the worst and with death in our souls.
\nThat’s why we like you,
\nvague survivor sun
\nthat can’t bid us farewell,
\nreturning every morning
\nlike a new miracle,
\never more beautiful as you go on
\nand near your end.
\nAnd with these incredible days
\nyou compose your season
\nwhich is one sweet agony.<\/p>\n

\"Ottobre,<\/a>

Ottobre, le Alpi Apuane.<\/em><\/span><\/p><\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"\"\"

Every season has its own beauty. Autumn brings exhilarating colours, the smell of must and wine, and the miracle of the sun ‘that can’t bid us farewell, returning every morning like a new miracle’. These are the thoughts expressed by the poet Vincenzo Cardarelli (1887-1960) in his poem Ottobre, which he wrote in the autumn…<\/p>\n

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