Tuesday, September 19, 2006

... AND I STILL HAVE A BONER FOR SABA

IL CANTO DI UN MATTINO

A MORNING SONG


(Umberto Saba)


Da te, cuor mio, l'ultimo canto aspetto,

e mi diletto a pensarlo fra me.


By you, my heart, I await the last song,

And it delights me to think of it before me.


Del mare sulla riva solatia,

non so se in sogno o vegliando, ho veduto,

quasi ancor giovannetto, un marinaio.

La gomena toglieva alla colonna

dell'approdo, e oscillava in mar la conscia

nave, pronta a salpare.

E l'udivo cantare,

per se stesso, ma si' che la citta'

n'era intenta, ed i colli e la marina,

e sopra tutte le cose il mio cuore:

“Meglio – cantava – dire addio all'amore,

se nell'amor non e' felicita'.”

Lieto appariva il suo bel volto; intorno

era la pace, era il silenzio; alcuno

ne' vicino scorgeno ne' lontano;

brillava il sole nel cielo, sul piano

vasto del mare, nel nascente giorno.


By the sea on the sunny bank,

I do not know if in dream or waking, I saw,

almost still a boy, a mariner.

The hawser tied to the post

of the landing, and swinging in the sea the conscious

ship, ready to sail away.

And I heard him sing,

for his own self, but also for the city

was it intended, and the collars and the navy,

and above all other things my heart:

"Better -- he was singing – to say goodbye to love,

if in the love is no happiness ".

His beautiful face appeared pleased; surrounded

in the peace, in the silence; something

neither near to glimpse nor far;

the sun was shining in the sky, on the wide plane

of the sea, in the rising day.


Egli e' solo, pensavo; or dove mai

vuole approdar la sua piccola barca?

“Cosi', piccina mia, cosi' non va”

diceva il canto, il canto che per via

ti segue; alla taverna, come donna

di tutti, l'hai vicino.

Ma in quel chiaro mattino

altro ammoniva quella voce; e questo

lo sai tu, cuore mio, che strane cose

ti chiedevi ascoltando: or se lontana

andra' la nave, or se la pena vana

non fosse, ed una colpa il mio esser mesto.

Sempre cantando, si affrettava il mozzo

alla partenza; ed io pensavo: e' un rozzo

uomo di mare? O e' forze un semidio?


He is alone, I thought; now will never

his little boat want to dock?

"So, my little one, so do not go"

said the singer, the singer that in the street

follows you; at the tavern, like the woman

of every man, you keep him near.

But in that clear morning

another admonished that voice; and this

you know, my heart, what strange things

you were wondering while listening: if now far

will go the ship, if now the punishment

was not in vain, and a fault of mine to be sad.

Always singing, the ship-boy was hurrying

to depart; and I thought: is he a rough

sea man? Or is he a mighty demigod?


Si tacque a un tratto, balzo' nella nave;

chiara soave rimembranza in me.


Silently in his steps, he jumped on the ship;

a clear sweet remembrance in me.

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