Sunday, December 12, 2010

Montale, Ashbery, in transit


E andando ned sole que abbaglia
sentire con triste meraviglia
come'è tutta la vita e il suo   travaglio
in questo seguitare una muraglia
che ha in cima occi aguzzi di   bottiglia.


And walking in the dazzling sun,
feel with sad amazement
that all life and its torment
consists in following along a wall
with broken bottle shards embedded in its top


Some departure from the norm
Will occur as time grows more open about it.
The consensus gradually changed; nobody 
Lies about it anymore. Rust dark pouring
Over the body, changing it without decay -
People with too many things on their minds, but we live
In the interstices, between a vacant stare and the ceiling,
Our lives remind us. Finally this is consciousness
And the other livers of it get off at the same stop.
How careless.






So l'ora in cui la faccia più impassibile
è traversata da una cruda smorfia:
s'è svelata per poco una pena invisibile.
Ciò non vede la gente nell'affollato corso.

I know the moment when a raw grimace
crosses the most impassive face:
for an instant an invisible pain is revealed.
The people in the crowded street don't see it.



.. Yet in the end each of us
Is seen to have traveled the same distance - it's time
That counts, and how deeply you have invested in it,
Crossing the street of an event, as though coming out of it were
The same as making it happen. You're not sorry,
Of course, especially if this is the way it had to happen,
Yet would like an exacter share, something about time




This posting was conceived
in glad memories of times
with Mme Ulli Steltzer,
portraitist of Mann, Einstein,
Oppenheimer, Bruno Walter, 
and me; lady of Princeton
and one's mentor in coffee.

Yes, Ulli. I'm Papa's
complaint with Brahms.




Eugenio Montale
Ossi di Seppia, 1926
Jonathan Galassi, translation
Farrar, Straus & Giroux, 1998©

John Ashbery
Saying It to Keep It from Happening
 Houseboat Days
Farrar, Straus & Giroux, 1975©

Ludwig van Beethoven
Op. 73, Adagio un poco mosso
Walter Gieseking, piano
Herbert von Karajan
The Philharmonia Orchestra
EMI, 1952©




2 comments:

  1. I've spent all my childhood Summers in a property surrounded by "a wall with broken bottle shards embedded in its top". I now work at this property and the bottle shards are still there, but their edges are not that sharp.

    I love you L for posting this!

    ReplyDelete