{"id":738,"date":"2011-05-27T07:00:00","date_gmt":"2011-05-27T07:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/italian\/?p=738"},"modified":"2011-08-01T20:50:17","modified_gmt":"2011-08-01T20:50:17","slug":"il-pino-solitario","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/italian\/il-pino-solitario\/","title":{"rendered":"Il Pino Solitario"},"content":{"rendered":"

Recently we went to visit my cousin who lives in Santa Margherita Ligure<\/strong>, near Genova<\/strong>. As it was a nice day, we decided to go out for a walk after lunch. My cousin suggested we walked to Portofino<\/strong>, 6 km away along the beautiful Ligurian coast. On our way to Portofino we passed uno scoglio su cui cresceva un pino solitario<\/strong> (a rock in the sea with a solitary pine tree growing on it). The sight of this old, twisted, lonely pine reminded me of a poem written by Salvatore Quasimodo<\/strong>, and published in 1930 in Acque e terre<\/strong> (Waters and lands)<\/em>. You can find out more about Salvatore Quasimodo here https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/italian\/specchio-di-primavera\/<\/a><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

.\"pino\"<\/a> <\/span><\/p>\n

Rifugio d’uccelli notturni<\/strong><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

– <\/span><\/p>\n

In alto c’\u00e8 un pino distorto;<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

sta intento ed ascolta l’abisso<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

col fusto piegato a balestra<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

–<\/span><\/p>\n

Rifugio d’uccelli notturni,<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

nell’ora pi\u00f9 alta risuona<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

d’un battere d’ali veloce.<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

–<\/span><\/p>\n

Ha pure un suo nido il mio cuore<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

sospeso nel buio, una voce;<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

sta pure in ascolto, la notte.<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

–<\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

Refuge of the Night Birds <\/span><\/span><\/em><\/span><\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

High up, there is a twisted pine;<\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

engrossed in listening to the abyss<\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

its trunk bent like a cross-bow.<\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

–<\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

Refuge of the night birds<\/span><\/em><\/span><\/em>,<\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

in the depths of the night it echoes<\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

with a fast beating of wings.<\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

–<\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

My heart also has its nest<\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

suspended in the darkness, a voice;<\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

to which it also listens, at night.<\/span><\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"\"\"

Recently we went to visit my cousin who lives in Santa Margherita Ligure, near Genova. As it was a nice day, we decided to go out for a walk after lunch. My cousin suggested we walked to Portofino, 6 km away along the beautiful Ligurian coast. On our way to Portofino we passed uno scoglio…<\/p>\n

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