Jenny died in child-birth-- I sat under my cedar tree. She was a hunk of sculptor's clay, My secret thoughts were fingers: They flew behind her pensive brow And lined it deep with pain. Ernest Hyde La mia mente era uno specchio: vedeva ciò che vedeva, sapeva ciò che sapeva. Or for suppressing the facts about the bank, When it was rotten and ready to break? But oh, dear God, my soul trembled, scarcely able To hold to the railing of the new life When I saw Em Stanton behind the oak tree At the grave, Hiding herself, and her grief! Sono morti, spogliati dal corpo che parlano come voci che provengono da un altro luogo. Il musicista mostra di saper vedere meglio dell'ottico i messaggi reconditi della realtà; di saper guarire, più del medico, gli animi di chi lo ascolta regalando un sorriso; sa trovare, a differenza del matto, un proprio efficace linguaggio per esprimersi; gusta appieno la vita, come il malato di cuore non ha potuto fare e, cosa più importante, sceglie la libertà o, meglio, sceglie di vederla anche quando non è scritta. There is a slice of small town community in each, and Masters presents these snapshots in a hauntingly, poignant way. Killion, Captain Orlando Kincaid, Russell King, Lyman Knapp, Nancy Konovaloff, Ippolit Kritt, Dow Layton, Henry M'Cumber, Daniel McDowell, Rutherford McFarlane, Widow McGee, Fletcher McGee, Ollie M'Grew, Jennie M'Grew, Mickey McGuire, Jack McNeely, Mary McNeely, Washington Malloy, Father Many Soldiers Marsh, Zilpha Marshall, Herbert Mason, Serepta Matheny, Faith Matlock, Davis Matlock, Lucinda Melveny, Abel Merritt, Mrs.
Passaggi di tempo, Edizioni Associate, Roma 1999, p. And just because you no more could love me, Nor pray for me, nor write me letters, The eternal silence of you spoke instead. Merritt, Tom Metcalf, Willie Meyers, Doctor Meyers, Mrs. It was clear he had got her in a family And to let the child be born Would not do. The really interesting part is that her husband, Henry, intentionally made her pregnant even though he knew that she would not survive childbirth! Or gather hazel nuts among the thickets On Aaron Hatfield's farm when the frosts begin? They are spoken from beyond the grave by former residents of a dreary, confining small town like those Masters himself had known during his Illinois boyhood. And I never started to plow in my life That some one did not stop in the road And take me away to a dance or picnic.
Quella che segue è una limitata scelta degli epitaffi che ho prediletto e che soprattutto mi paiono emblematici di tutta la raccolta: Johnnie Sayre Papà, non saprai mai l'angoscia che mi strinse il cuore per la mia disobbedienza, quando sentii la ruota spietata della locomotiva affondarmi nella carne urlante della gamba. Quasi per conoscere meglio i personaggi, Fernanda iniziò a tradurre in italiano le poesie, naturalmente senza dirlo a Pavese: temeva che la prendesse in giro. The wind's in the corn; you rub your hands For beeves hereafter ready for market; Or else you hear the rustle of skirts. The second line also tells us that he was a member of 'the party of prohibition. Purkapile, Roscoe Putt, Hod Reece, Mrs.
Hare Drummer Do the boys and girls still go to Siever's For cider, after school, in late September? He has a lot to say about living, death, and regret and a surprising amount on lawyers. Others who fell from water towers, were murdered in lover's quarrels, who died of heartbreak and disease. The poem brings up an important theme, and one that is common in the anthology: that you can't know the secrets of your neighbors. Alcuni di loro, semplicemente, raccontano la propria morte; altri si lamentano della propria sepoltura, se la trovano indecorosa o, al contrario, se ne vantano se si rendono conto di essere stati sepolti con onori che in vita non hanno meritato. All were gone, or broken-winged or devoured by life-- I sat under my cedar tree.
In death, therefore, I am avenged. This is a conceptually intriguing book in which the residents represented by over 200 poems of a small town cemetery speak from the grave about the truth as they see it, being free from social pressure or potential retribution to present themselves or others in a good light. In his thinly veiled fictional town of Spoon River, situated in central Illinois near Lewistown, where Masters grew up, the honest, hardworking, chaste, and churchgoing live amidst corrupt bankers, abusive husbands, unfulfilled wives, sexual deviants, and failed dreamers. And if the people find you can fiddle, Why, fiddle you must, for all your life. Sweet it was to see the crowds about the lawns on the day of my funeral, And hear them murmur their love and sorrow.
Solo uno spazio aperto - non vedo niente in particolare. Now every gardener knows that plants grown in cellars Or under stones are twisted and yellow and weak. Then, with the ambition to prefix Honorable to my name, And thus to win my children's admiration, I ran for County Superintendent of Schools, Spending my accumulations to win-- and lost. It extols the simple joys of life, and finds satisfaction enough in that. At forty years, passe, I sought New York And met old Patrick Hummer on the boat, Red-faced and hale, though turned his sixtieth year, Returning after having sold a ship-load Of cattle in the German city, Hamburg. In truth it pictures not my destination But my life.
But no sooner were the young hatched Than a snake crawled up to the nest To devour the brood. One passed in a fever, One was burned in a mine, One was killed in a brawl, One died in a jail, One fell from a bridge toiling for children and wife- All, all are sleeping, sleeping, sleeping on the hill. Ma un giorno Pavese scoprì in un cassetto il manoscritto e convinse Einaudi a pubblicarlo. I morti vogliono raccontare la loro verità, che è stata molto spesso taciuta e ignorata per ipocrisia, convenienza, ecc. Si intitola Spoon River Anthology.
And I never started to plow in my life That some one did not stop in the road And take me away to a dance or picnic. Mio padre, mia madre e le mie sorelle. A year passed and one day they found him dead. The tongue may be an unruly member-- But silence poisons the soul. I felt that Masters continued the project after it's vital energy had waned.
This idea was transformed through a chance acquaintance. As for myself I overcame my lower nature Only to be destroyed by my brother's ambition. He caught me running with Lucius Atherton. I moved on, This time to Paris. Nelle note di copertina dell'album si trova un'interessante di Fernanda Pivano a Fabrizio. KevinR Ky; slightly amended in 2016 I've trawled through many a 19th century small town newspaper for various research projects, and one's dirty linen was often hung out to dry for public view in the printed word. The boy I loved best of all in the school? I died on my feet, Facing the silence--facing the prospect That no one would know of the fight I made.
Quem quiser, que me censure - eu estou satisfeito. When I felt the bullet enter my heart I wished I had staid at home and gone to jail For stealing the hogs of Curl Trenary, Instead of running away and joining the army. In 1917, Masters left his family; he and his wife would divorce in 1923. One died in shameful child-birth, One of a thwarted love, One at the hands of a brute in a brothel, One of a broken pride, in the search for heart's desire; One after life in far-away London and Paris Was brought to her little space by Ella and Kate and Mag-- All, all are sleeping, sleeping, sleeping on the hill. Do not let the will play gardener to your soul Unless you are sure It is wiser than your soul's nature. And you wondered in a trance of thought What he knew, what he desired, and why he lived at all. On morality's After a full summer battling Infinite Jest and thoroughly enjoying it , this book was welcome relief.