In times of prevailing and the obsessive cult of the body according to beauty stereotypes that have nothing to do with beauty I would like to focus on 'aesthetic and beauty of the sounds of languages \u200b\u200b, and value in this sense assume language education in general and the study of classical languages \u200b\u200b in particular, through the translation workshop . Listening to polyphonic language educates the taste and sense of harmony moving in the waves of words , in combination, and in the specific beauty of each language.
I thought it appropriate to communicate these thoughts because with the reform of the curricula of secondary schools, the study of classical languages \u200b\u200band in particular of Latin , which are rooted in culture not only Italian, but the whole of Europe (see for example the fundamental work of H. Curtius, European Literature and the Latin Middle Ages) has been drastically reduced or even eliminated , without any protest of intellectuals, with no "advertising noise" in the newspapers or on television to plead the "linguistic roots and cultural, as other cases it is done instrumentally. And this is another sign of rudeness cultural empire that in our country .
But, without wasting time in idle discourse of praise of the past or a lament for the present unjust, I will say that I tried with the sounds of languages \u200b\u200b a nice game, not without difficulty, perhaps comparable to the joy of the musician's intent when translated in the sequences of known about experiences and then replayed in the heart. I played with the sound images of the poem, moving from Italian to Latin , the verses of a poem by D'Annunzio melodiously free of Alcyone, the evening of Fiesole, all'esametro Latin. I did to invite the attention concerning the translation, such as multiple experience. The translation, in addition to developing verbal language and multilingual competence, educates the beauty starting from hearing the sound of the word, the miracle that created all the wonders of human knowledge. And in principle, the word is pure sound. No need for long speeches to prove that poetry is primarily musicality of the word. And the sound the same "direction" is cultured with a synaesthetic involvement, referring to all five senses, and sentimental. The experience of translation, also teaches patience and care, educates and sensitivity, while imposing the penalty, pushing the limits to break with the imagination and stimulates creativity restructure into a new text in the sounds and the objects perceived. It is therefore important that I try to report what I could observe from my own experience. While translating the poem, following the pattern metric hexameter "I changed" in the concentration of a polyphonic play in a consistent attention to in-tend to receive a sound that evokes a sense. Without any doubt the poetic translation is an activity that transforms those who carry it. It is as if, in between-duce a text-ducessimo between ourselves beyond the limits of logical and expressive communication, in an effort to "understand" completely free and passionate. I made a 'I like to experience and communicate it. I choose the hexameter because it was used by Greek and Latin poets (among others remember Theocritus and Virgil) in the composition of the "romances", short and lyrical "pictures" of landscapes. The 'romance' has been very fortunate in our literary tradition, knowing extraordinary transformations, as has happened in the voice of Giacomo Leopardi, who in the "idyllic" thickened her "the poetic thought."
"Evening fiesolana" I read it just like a "romance" in which a panicked voice emanates from the things of nature, singing a "laud" the evening .
The translation is not literal, of course. The result of the experiment is flawed, but great was the pleasure donatomi from this "useless" "heroic effort", which would be incomprehensible to some, in every sense, for the ministers and Gelmini Tremonti. So, in conclusion, I like to write a few sentences of Simone Weil: "Intelligence can only be driven by desire. And because there is desire, there must be pleasure and joy . The intelligence only grows and bears fruit in joy. The joy of learning is essential to studies such as breathing to the riders. Where there are no students, but poor caricatures of apprentices at the end of their training is not Nor will a trade. ... studies in education is one of those fields in which it is enclosed in a pearl . For this pearl is worth to sell all of its assets, without retaining some, in order to buy the field. " (S. Weil, Waiting for God , Adelphi, Milano 2008, pp. 196 and 201)
To suggest reading the meter, I scored the rhythmic accents. Reading, just remember that in the verse, when a word ends in a vowel or-m preceded by a vowel (-am,-em,-um. Etc.). And the next begins again with a vowel, the elimination may occur (fall) of the final vowel of the previous word. If the word following the verb to be is a voice falls la e- di quest'ultima.
Faesulànus Vèsper
Mòllia vèrba tibì mea sìnt ad vèsperem amìcum,
sìcut pér moròs agitàntur mùrmure fòlia
lèniter ìn manibùs cuiùsdam quì ea càrpit
sùspensùs tacitùs scalìs nigrescèntibus àpud
àrborem àrgenteàm subtèr silèntia clàra,
cùm luna àdvenit àlba ad caèrula lìmina coèli,
àdventùque suò velàmina càndida pàndit
quà somniàntibùs nobìs somnium iàcet et àgri
nòcturnòque gelù se mèrsos lùmine sèntiunt
spératàmque ab eà pacem ét haurìre vidèntur.
Làudatùs pallènte tuo òre, sis càndide vèsper
cùmque tuìs oculìs umidìs ubi coèli aqua tàcet .
Dùlcia vèrba tibì mea sìnt ad vèsperem amìcum.
Lànguidus ùt fugièns super hèrbis ìncidit ìmber
dùm lacrimàns guttìs levibùs ver dùlce salùtat.
Íncidit ìmber ulmòs, moròs, vitèsque virèntes.
Íncidit ìn pinì digitòs, ludèntes ad àuram.
Íncidit ìn frugès non adhùc flavàs neque acèrbas .
Íncidit ìn fenùm quod fàlcem iam pàtitur àcrem.
Làudatùs veste olènte tuà sis ròscide vèsper!
Cìnctus té cingìt, sicut iùnco cìngitur fènum.
Dìcam amorìs tibi règna ad quaè nos ìncitat àmnis
cùius aèternaè fontès e vetèribus ùmbris
àrborum orànt in mòntibus àltis, ét tibi dìcam
quò sanctò mystèrio còlles flectàntur ad àera
lìmpidum, ét tibi dìcam quaè dicèndi volùptas
còlles pùlchriorès faciàt humanìs desidèriis
omnibus, et semper adeo silèntiis gratos
ùt videàtur eos magis love can animate.
Làudatùs propter mortem clear vesper sis!
Sidera first Micanti in coelo fiery sign.
the evening fiesolana (Gabriele D'Annunzio)
Fresh
my words do in the evening you
sien as the rustling leaves that fan
Mulberry nor the man who captures the silent and still lingers in
the deed
slow on the high scale darkening
against stem s'inargenta
with his bare copper
while the Moon is close to the thresholds
Cerulo and seems to relax in front of him a veil
where our dream lies
and it seems that the campaign already feels she
submerged in the chill of night, and you drink the hoped-for peace
without seeing it.
praise be for thy face pearl
or evening, and pè your big wet eyes, where it is silent
water from the sky! Sweets
my words do in the evening you
sien as the rain bruiva
lukewarm and fleeting
tearful farewell from the spring,
on the mulberry and elm trees and the vines and pines
novel by rosy fingers
playing with the aura that is lost, and
on 'the grain that is not yet
and blond is not green, and
' l hay already suffered the sickle
and fades,
and olive trees, olive trees on the brothers
fan of holiness that the densely wooded
pale and smiling.
praise be to thy clothes fragrant,
or evening, and for the wall that surrounds you as the willow
hay that smells!
I'll tell you what to
realms of love we call the river, whose sources
eternal and the shadow of the ancient branches
speak in the sacred mystery of the mountains;
and tell you what the secret to the hills on the
clear horizons
s'incúrvino as a ban
lips shut, and be willing to say why the face
beautiful beyond all human desire
and silence their stories always
console, which seems
every night of the soul can love
of love stronger.
praise be to your pure death
or evening, and the expectation is that you beat the first stars
!
I thought it appropriate to communicate these thoughts because with the reform of the curricula of secondary schools, the study of classical languages \u200b\u200band in particular of Latin , which are rooted in culture not only Italian, but the whole of Europe (see for example the fundamental work of H. Curtius, European Literature and the Latin Middle Ages) has been drastically reduced or even eliminated , without any protest of intellectuals, with no "advertising noise" in the newspapers or on television to plead the "linguistic roots and cultural, as other cases it is done instrumentally. And this is another sign of rudeness cultural empire that in our country .
But, without wasting time in idle discourse of praise of the past or a lament for the present unjust, I will say that I tried with the sounds of languages \u200b\u200b a nice game, not without difficulty, perhaps comparable to the joy of the musician's intent when translated in the sequences of known about experiences and then replayed in the heart. I played with the sound images of the poem, moving from Italian to Latin , the verses of a poem by D'Annunzio melodiously free of Alcyone, the evening of Fiesole, all'esametro Latin. I did to invite the attention concerning the translation, such as multiple experience. The translation, in addition to developing verbal language and multilingual competence, educates the beauty starting from hearing the sound of the word, the miracle that created all the wonders of human knowledge. And in principle, the word is pure sound. No need for long speeches to prove that poetry is primarily musicality of the word. And the sound the same "direction" is cultured with a synaesthetic involvement, referring to all five senses, and sentimental. The experience of translation, also teaches patience and care, educates and sensitivity, while imposing the penalty, pushing the limits to break with the imagination and stimulates creativity restructure into a new text in the sounds and the objects perceived. It is therefore important that I try to report what I could observe from my own experience. While translating the poem, following the pattern metric hexameter "I changed" in the concentration of a polyphonic play in a consistent attention to in-tend to receive a sound that evokes a sense. Without any doubt the poetic translation is an activity that transforms those who carry it. It is as if, in between-duce a text-ducessimo between ourselves beyond the limits of logical and expressive communication, in an effort to "understand" completely free and passionate. I made a 'I like to experience and communicate it. I choose the hexameter because it was used by Greek and Latin poets (among others remember Theocritus and Virgil) in the composition of the "romances", short and lyrical "pictures" of landscapes. The 'romance' has been very fortunate in our literary tradition, knowing extraordinary transformations, as has happened in the voice of Giacomo Leopardi, who in the "idyllic" thickened her "the poetic thought."
"Evening fiesolana" I read it just like a "romance" in which a panicked voice emanates from the things of nature, singing a "laud" the evening .
The translation is not literal, of course. The result of the experiment is flawed, but great was the pleasure donatomi from this "useless" "heroic effort", which would be incomprehensible to some, in every sense, for the ministers and Gelmini Tremonti. So, in conclusion, I like to write a few sentences of Simone Weil: "Intelligence can only be driven by desire. And because there is desire, there must be pleasure and joy . The intelligence only grows and bears fruit in joy. The joy of learning is essential to studies such as breathing to the riders. Where there are no students, but poor caricatures of apprentices at the end of their training is not Nor will a trade. ... studies in education is one of those fields in which it is enclosed in a pearl . For this pearl is worth to sell all of its assets, without retaining some, in order to buy the field. " (S. Weil, Waiting for God , Adelphi, Milano 2008, pp. 196 and 201)
To suggest reading the meter, I scored the rhythmic accents. Reading, just remember that in the verse, when a word ends in a vowel or-m preceded by a vowel (-am,-em,-um. Etc.). And the next begins again with a vowel, the elimination may occur (fall) of the final vowel of the previous word. If the word following the verb to be is a voice falls la e- di quest'ultima.
Faesulànus Vèsper
Mòllia vèrba tibì mea sìnt ad vèsperem amìcum,
sìcut pér moròs agitàntur mùrmure fòlia
lèniter ìn manibùs cuiùsdam quì ea càrpit
sùspensùs tacitùs scalìs nigrescèntibus àpud
àrborem àrgenteàm subtèr silèntia clàra,
cùm luna àdvenit àlba ad caèrula lìmina coèli,
àdventùque suò velàmina càndida pàndit
quà somniàntibùs nobìs somnium iàcet et àgri
nòcturnòque gelù se mèrsos lùmine sèntiunt
spératàmque ab eà pacem ét haurìre vidèntur.
Làudatùs pallènte tuo òre, sis càndide vèsper
cùmque tuìs oculìs umidìs ubi coèli aqua tàcet .
Dùlcia vèrba tibì mea sìnt ad vèsperem amìcum.
Lànguidus ùt fugièns super hèrbis ìncidit ìmber
dùm lacrimàns guttìs levibùs ver dùlce salùtat.
Íncidit ìmber ulmòs, moròs, vitèsque virèntes.
Íncidit ìn pinì digitòs, ludèntes ad àuram.
Íncidit ìn frugès non adhùc flavàs neque acèrbas .
Íncidit ìn fenùm quod fàlcem iam pàtitur àcrem.
Làudatùs veste olènte tuà sis ròscide vèsper!
Cìnctus té cingìt, sicut iùnco cìngitur fènum.
Dìcam amorìs tibi règna ad quaè nos ìncitat àmnis
cùius aèternaè fontès e vetèribus ùmbris
àrborum orànt in mòntibus àltis, ét tibi dìcam
quò sanctò mystèrio còlles flectàntur ad àera
lìmpidum, ét tibi dìcam quaè dicèndi volùptas
còlles pùlchriorès faciàt humanìs desidèriis
omnibus, et semper adeo silèntiis gratos
ùt videàtur eos magis love can animate.
Làudatùs propter mortem clear vesper sis!
Sidera first Micanti in coelo fiery sign.
the evening fiesolana (Gabriele D'Annunzio)
Fresh
my words do in the evening you
sien as the rustling leaves that fan
Mulberry nor the man who captures the silent and still lingers in
the deed
slow on the high scale darkening
against stem s'inargenta
with his bare copper
while the Moon is close to the thresholds
Cerulo and seems to relax in front of him a veil
where our dream lies
and it seems that the campaign already feels she
submerged in the chill of night, and you drink the hoped-for peace
without seeing it.
praise be for thy face pearl
or evening, and pè your big wet eyes, where it is silent
water from the sky! Sweets
my words do in the evening you
sien as the rain bruiva
lukewarm and fleeting
tearful farewell from the spring,
on the mulberry and elm trees and the vines and pines
novel by rosy fingers
playing with the aura that is lost, and
on 'the grain that is not yet
and blond is not green, and
' l hay already suffered the sickle
and fades,
and olive trees, olive trees on the brothers
fan of holiness that the densely wooded
pale and smiling.
praise be to thy clothes fragrant,
or evening, and for the wall that surrounds you as the willow
hay that smells!
I'll tell you what to
realms of love we call the river, whose sources
eternal and the shadow of the ancient branches
speak in the sacred mystery of the mountains;
and tell you what the secret to the hills on the
clear horizons
s'incúrvino as a ban
lips shut, and be willing to say why the face
beautiful beyond all human desire
and silence their stories always
console, which seems
every night of the soul can love
of love stronger.
praise be to your pure death
or evening, and the expectation is that you beat the first stars
!
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