Solo e pensoso…

11 11 2011

 Sonnet 35 de Pétrarque.

Des étudiants de l’université de l’Oregon en proposent une version chantée:



Solo e pensoso i piú deserti campi
vo mesurando a passi tardi e lenti,
e gli occhi porto per fuggire intenti
ove vestigio uman l’arena stampi.

Altro schermo non trovo che mi scampi
dal manifesto accorger de la genti,
perché negli atti d’alegrezza spenti
di fuor si legge com’io dentro avampi.

Sí ch’io mi credo omai che monti e piagge,
e fiumi e selve sappian di che tempre
sia la mia vita, ch’é celata altrui.

Ma pur sí aspre vie, né sì selvagge
cercar non so, ch’Amor non venga sempre
ragionando con meco; et io co’ lui.

English translation by William H. Fredlund.

Alone and deep in thought
I measure with slow and lingering steps
the deserted fields,
ready to flee if my eyes discern
a human footprint in the sand.

No other defense have I,
that will save me from
the knowing glances of mankind,
for in my looks, bereft of joy,
one may read outwardly
how I burn within.

So that now I think
only the mountains and the hillsides,
the streams and forests,
know the temper of my life,
that which is hidden from all men.

Yet no path is so harsh, so savage,
that Love cannot find a way to join me,
and to speak to me,
and for me to respond.


Francis Petrarch, Sonnet 35 from the Canzoniere new translation by Robert Durling

Alone and filled with care, I go measuring
the most deserted fields with late, slow steps,
and I keep my eyes intent to flee
where human footprints may mark the ground.

No other shield do I find to protect me
from people’s open knowing,
for in my bearing, where all gladness is spent,
from without can be read how within I am aflame,

so that I am sure by now that mountains and slopes
and rivers and forests know of what temper
my life is, which is hidden from others.

But still I cannot seek out paths
so harsh and so savage that Love does not always come
discoursing with me, and I with him.



Une réponse à “Solo e pensoso…”

  1. 14 11 2011
    Maybe (06:46:08) :

    Those are very different translations! As far as I can make out, not knowing any Italian, Fredlund’s is slightly more « liberal, » although not too much so in terms of vocabulary and grammatical constructions? Durling is more literal, to the point where some of his lines don’t make a lot of sense. These two, for instance– »and I keep my eyes intent to flee / where human footprints may mark the ground »–would be very hard to understand if one didn’t have the other translation to refer to. As « partition sonore, » I’d choose Fredlund–no contest. If I were a language teacher grading exams…?

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