Poets From Italy

"I am not an intellectual, I am a cleric. An intellectual is someone who takes sides with extremely political values. A cleric, on the other hand, is someone who strives to follow values that are universal."

"[About the relationship with Sicily] As far as I am aware—and I can only answer for this, not for so-called unconscious things, which I do not presume to investigate—I have no “relationships,” it is rather the extension of my skin [...] I have written something about Sicily. But as for living here, I must say that I feel at home, I have an immediate connection. As a boy, I lived in Lentini, where I was born—there were no gardens to replace the small boarding houses—my father was a pharmacist, my uncle was a lawyer and owned some land in the countryside, where we would go from time to time. It was a very rich land, where archaeological finds were later made, and so I found myself playing with bones — those of the Greeks, the Graeculi, of all those who had lived there or had passed through (you can find this in one of my short poems...); well, I felt at home, I feel at home there."

"Pessimistic discourse belongs to the genre of oratory, because it presupposes an audience that can shout and get excited."

"The best is nothing more than reality as it is. This was Hegel's pessimism."

"Someone said that only God could have written the ‘Ethica’. Believe me, he was wrong. Not even God. In fact, the impossibility of the Ethica being written is nothing other than the impossibility of the world being created, which the Ethica demonstrates perfectly. (p. 100)"

"The light emanating from Spinoza, Colerus explained, was no less than sunlight. I suspected that heaven and earth had conspired to create this simile. Yet there is a less fortuitous reason why I will never fail to mention Spinoza's name. By disappearing before his own work, he bound himself to it forever. Where, in fact, are the traces of a living being in the ‘’Ethica‘’? Can anyone point out a place where even his shadow is present? But doesn't this little bit of reality seem to be his greatest attribute? This, then, is what Spinoza did, and the reason why we must remember him. He managed not to be the ‘author’ of the ‘'Ethica’'. (p. 100)"

"As Spinoza gradually got rid of himself, the ‘’Ethica‘’ was born. This is the opposite of being its author. In order to write the ‘'Ethica’', he had to cease to exist. To be more precise, we should say that a certain Baruch Spinoza, who did not exist, wrote the ‘'Ethica’'. (p. 101)"

"You agree, however, that when everyone begins: Baruch Spinoza was born here or there, on such and such a day and year, and only then do they talk about the ‘’Ethica‘’, you agree, admit it, that these are only rumors. If anything, we should start with his death, or when it began, and work backwards. We should say how it was that this man began to disappear on a given day. (p. 101)"

"One cannot be reactionary because there is nowhere to return to; one cannot be progressive because there is nowhere to go."

"The truth, the task of those who deal with philosophy, is not the dialogue between two people who philosophize, but a silent nod that is addressed to the designated victim."

"We forgive those who have offended us because that evens the score: one offense each. But the latter is deadly."

"True discipline in matters of the intellect is a ruthless intransigence against the spirit of discussion. Every concession made in the name of mutual equality is a betrayal of the truth, over which courtesy prevails. Thinking divides."

"Natural theology, as a “natural disposition,” belongs to blind spontaneity, to brute human nature. But at the same time, it reminds us that here there is only the lowest being. The same thing implies the blind formality of the disjunctive syllogism which, if we want to tell it like it is, leads us obtusely to conceive the outrageous idea of God. With this impiety, natural theology begins and ends."

"Sgalambro was a Schopenhauerian, he was Schopenhauer. I don't think this critical and essentially pessimistic vein did Battiato much good, as he lost some of that vein of irreverence, the paradoxical, ironic, sometimes even completely light-hearted energy he had in his works such as ‘Bandiera bianca’."

"And so he became a writer. Well done. Every now and then he will come back for holidays, perhaps to see his family, and he will criticize us fiercely because he lives in civilization. But there is one thing he does not know, that this land, like the Ionia of Heraclitus and Anaxagoras, is magical, and always calls back those who belong to it, as if exercising a right. The law of belonging. And even for him, one day the return will be inevitable. It will be the climate, the light, the air... An almond granita!"

"If you steal, they arrest you; if you say that God exists, it's just an opinion. That has always amazed me."

"At last I have found that which I desired, that which I have always sought, the love long sighed for, the love beheld in my dreams! A maiden of perfect beauty, of grace which is natural and not acquired; a maiden learned in Greek and Latin, excellent in the dance, skilled in music, in which qualities, veiled by her modesty, she is the rival of the Graces. I have found her! But what doth it profit me, if I, who burn for her, can see her scarce once a year?"

"An admirable Electra was the youthful Alessandra; admirable for the manner in which she, an Italian, pronounced the speech of Athens; in the just intonations of her voice, in preserving the illusion of the scene, in faithfully portraying the character, and regulating the expression, gestures and movements, proper to her part; in keeping the language of passion within the bounds of decorum, in awakening the pity of the audience by the sight of her tearful face. All were deeply moved, but oh! what envy did I feel within my heart when she clasped Orestes to her breast and cried, 'Do I hold thee in mine arms?' and he replied, 'Oh, mayest thou ever hold me thus!'"

"Ναυηγοῦ τάφος εἰμί: σὺ δὲ πλέε: καὶ γὰρ ὅθ᾽ ἡμεῖς ὠλλύμεθ᾽, αἱ λοιπαὶ νῆες ἐποντοπόρουν."

"Italia, Italia! o tu cui feo la sorte Dono infelice di bellezza, ond' hai Funesta dote d'infiniti guai Che in fronte scritti per gran doglia porte: Deh fossi tu men bella o almen piu forte, Onde assai più ti paventasse, o assai T'amasse men, chi dal tuo bello a' rai Par che si strugga, e pur ti sfida a morte."

"Scribere fert animus multa et diversa, nec uno Gurgite versari semper; quo flamina ducent Ibimus, et nunc has, nunc illas nabimus undas; Ardua nunc ponti, nunc littora tuta petemus. Et quanquam interdum fretus ratione, latentes Naturæ tentabo vias, atque abdita pandam, Præcipuè tamen illa sequar quæcunque videntur Prodesse, ac sanctos mortalibus addere mores, Heu penitus (liceat verum mihi dicere) nostro Extinctos ævο."

"Know that this theory is false; his bark The daring mariner shall urge far o'er The western wave, a smooth and level plain, Albeit the earth is fashion'd like a wheel. Man was in ancient days of grosser mould, And Hercules might blush to learn how far Beyond the limits he had vainly set, The dullest seaboat soon shall wing her way. Men shall descry another hemisphere, Since to one common centre all things tend; So earth, by curious mystery divine Well balanced, hangs amid the starry spheres. At our Antipodes are cities, states, And thronged empires, ne'er divined of yore. But see, the Sun speeds on his western path To glad the nations with expected light."

"Your virtue may raise you above the glory of being king. The sort of honour that goes down to our children with real lustre is derived from our deeds and qualities, not from power or titles. For myself, I do not wish to be the wife of a king, but of a general who can make himself superior to the greatest king, not only by courage, but by magnanimity, and superiority to any less elevated motive than duty"

"She bore me great affection, and I had none the less for her. Death deprived me of a great friend."

"And well I know that thy sex, 'Midst the offices dear unto us and humble cares, Can raise itself, and by learned writings Win for itself immortality."

"The understanding of women is keener and more quick than that of men."

"The Italian nation rose, as did all the others in Europe, about the close of the Middle Ages; but its birth was different. Italy was not the creation of kings and warriors; she was the creature of a poet, Dante. The foreigners who identify Italy with Dante are essentially right. His character and work had a decisive influence which grew in the centuries, until they became paramount to the leading class of the Italian people. It is hardly an exaggeration to hold that he was to Italy what Moses may have been to Israel."

"The woman bent down to pick up the fallen pomegranate from the grass. It was ripe, it had burst open in the fall, stained her white dress. The vision of the laden barge, the pale island, the flowery meadow returned to her loving spirit along with the Creator's words: 'This is my body...Take and eat..."

"And in the kisses, what deep sweetness! There are women's mouths that seem to ignite with love the breath that opens them. Whether they are reddened by blood richer than purple, or frozen by the pallor of agony, whether they are illuminated by the goodness of consent or darkened by the shadow of disdain, they always carry within them an enigma that disturbs men of intellect, and attracts them and captivates them. A constant discord between the expression of the lips and that of the eyes generates the mystery; it seems as if a duplicitous soul reveals itself there with a different beauty, happy and sad, cold and passionate, cruel and merciful, humble and proud, laughing and mocking; and the abiguity arouses discomfort in the spirit that takes pleasure in dark things."

"He wanted to possess not the body but the soul of that woman; and to possess her entire soul, with all her tenderness, all her joys, all her fears, all her anguish, all her dreams, in other words, the entire lief of her soul; and to be able to say: I am the life of her life."

"It was the beginning of June; summer was arising out of spring, like an aloe from a field of grass."

"Commander Gabriele D'Annunzio, I know of nothing that equals the harmony of your captivating words, the energy of your victorious work. With the devoted, grateful heart of an Italian and an artist, I hope your wishes be fulfilled. For beautiful Italy, for great Italy, for her noblest son, for his valiant comrades, eja, eja, eja, alalà!"

"But the daily tasks and prayers of men, the ancient city tired from having lived too long, the ravaged marble and worn out bells, all those things oppressed by the weight of memories, all those perishable things were rendered humble in comparison with the tremendous blazing Alps that tore at the sky with their thousand unyielding spikes, a vast, solitary city that was waiting, perhaps, for a new race of Titans."

"Luigi Alamanni, On cultivation, in Versi e prose, edited by Pietro Raffaelli, 2 vols., Felice Le Monnier , Florence, C.E.1859, vol. II."

"Luigi Alamanni was certainly a noble and graceful poet: and yet, with all the elegances that he has scattered liberally here and there in Coltivazione, few read the six books of his blank verses: if we take away ours who therefore look for many strange and kind ways of speaking well. (Salvatore Betti)"

"O miserable one who binds the soul | In his hot desires, which always then | For him it turns red, turns white, burns and freezes. (from Elegia – He narrates the cruelty of Love, and begs him to leave him alone, p. 10)"

"How hard it is, when you show your face serenely to others, to feel sadness and boredom, and laugh and cry in your heart! (from Elegia – He protests his love to his wife even though cruel, p. 10)"

"For then my tongue understands in vain | To complain about her, even if every day | Does the heart burn with false flattery? | How I wish until the dawn comes, | Cintia, I'll stay with you the whole night, | Nor then leave me all day again! (From Elegia- He protests his love to his wife, cruel as she is, p. 11)"

"Today Flora is going through the countryside; | Come, sacred Pan, to do her honor, | What else so beautiful have you not seen yet. | Nor do you take this into disdain or pain, | Vaga Syringa, who gives her the pride The nine Muses, the three Graces, and the Hours. But you, horned God, if you aim a little | I stare at her, to new wonder | Your bagpipe will fall away. (from Elegy – Flora in the countryside, p. 4)"

"Luigi Alamanni, Verses and prose, Felice Le Monnier, Florence, C.E.1859."

"[...] stepmother sometimes, sometimes mother | the light of day comes into human works. [...]. (VI, 97; p. 310)"

"[...] the little brings much greater fruit | when there is good worship, that 'much incult [...]. (IV, 427; p. 265)"

"If I could tell it in rhyme to others | The sweet sight you gave me, Love, | On the blessed day when the heart | Ice cream and cold you warmed me in first place; | Perhaps such is the person who falsely estimates | All your kingdom is only tears and pain, | Which for me freed from the common error | Of his life would put you at the top . (from Sonnet – He would hope for comfort from the verses, p. 1)"

"The harsh necessity, the custom and the time | giving birth day by day to cunning and art [...]. (III, 863; p. 223)"

"[...] nor is there anything more like God | who against the offender show themselves pious. (from Girone il cortese, google.it/books?id=d6WjRUQtH2AC&pg=PA77 77])"

"He who wants to embrace too much, squeezes nothing. (IV, 422; p. 265)"

"Amor sees me, and with him Cintia and Flora, | This one on the right hand, and the one on the left side | There've other Tuscan foot not pressed yet, | Behind the tallest and most ornate of all | He sang for Delia, and to whom she wrote her name, | Now the second time he will be praised. Let them show me the path I am taking, and how Callimachus and Philetas showed it to them, | First to have this idra adorned their hair. (from Elegia – 2 beauties, Cintia and Flora, also light it up. TO SENATOR RENATO TRIULZIO OF MILAN, p. 2)"

"Enjoy therefore the soul's beauty for yourself | Of your Muses, those alone are mine | Who have a happy soul in a double flame accustomed. | Now receive some on the mountain, where it is collected Your name, among other clear spirits; | Yes, whoever is happy or saddened by love May my sayings still be dear to me at times. (from Elegia – Two beauties, Cintia and Flora, also light it up. TO SENATOR RENATO TRIULZIO OF MILAN, p. 4)"

"[About Germany and Austria] The Grifagna Eagle | which brings two beaks to devour more. (from Verses and prose by Luigi Alamanni, edited by Pietro Raffaelli, vol. I, Florence, C.E.1859, p. XXVIII)"

"Things banned increase the desire. (from Flora)"