Wind At Tindari

Tindari, I know you
mild between broad hills, overhanging the waters
of the god’s sweet islands.
Today, you confront me
and break into my heart.

I climb airy peaks, precipices,
following the wind in the pines,
and the crowd of them, lightly accompanying me,
fly off into the air,
wave of love and sound,
and you take me to you,
you from whom I wrongly drew
evil, and fear of silence, shadow,
- refuge of sweetness, once certain -
and death of spirit.

It is unknown to you, that country
where each day I go down deep
to nourish secret syllables.
A different light strips you, behind the windows
clothed in night,
and another joy than mine
lies against you.


Exile is harsh
and the search, for harmony, that ended in you
changes today
to a precocious anxiousness for death,
and every love is a shield against sadness,
a silent stair in the gloom,
where you station me
to break my bitter bread.

Return, serene Tindari,
stir me, sweet friend,
to raise myself to the sky from the rock,
so that I might shape fear, for those who do not know
what deep wind has searched me.

by Salvatore Quasimodo

Comments (2)

Italian, original text: ''VENTO A TINDARI'' Tindari, mite ti so Fra larghi colli pensile sull’acque Delle isole dolci del dio, oggi m’assali e ti chini in cuore. Salgo vertici aerei precipizi, assorto al vento dei pini, e la brigata che lieve m’accompagna s’allontana nell’aria, onda di suoni e amore, e tu mi prendi da cui male mi trassi e paure d’ombre e di silenzi, rifugi di dolcezze un tempo assidue e morte d’anima. A te ignota è la terra Ove ogni giorno affondo E segrete sillabe nutro: altra luce ti sfoglia sopra i vetri nella veste notturna, e gioia non mia riposa sul tuo grembo. Aspro è l’esilio, e la ricerca che chiudevo in te d’armonia oggi si muta in ansia precoce di morire; e ogni amore è schermo alla tristezza, tacito passo al buio dove mi hai posto amaro pane a rompere. Tindari serena torna; soave amico mi desta che mi sporga nel cielo da una rupe e io fingo timore a chi non sa che vento profondo m’ha cercato.
''Wind at Tindari'' Tindari, I know you mild between broad hills, overhanging the waters of the god’s sweet islands. Today, you confront me and penetrate my heart. I climb airy peaks, precipices, following the wind in the pines, and the crowd of them, lightly accompanying me, fly off into the air, wave of love and sound, and you take me to you, you from whom I wrongly gathered evil, and fear of shadow, silence – refuge of sweetness, once certain – and death of spirit. It is unknown to you, that country where each day I go deep to nourish secret syllables: a different light bares you, behind the windows clothed in night, and another joy than mine rests on your breast. Exile is harsh and the search, for harmony, ending in you, changes today to a precocious anxiousness for death, and every love is a shield against sadness, a silent stair in the gloom, where you station me to break my bitter bread. Return, serene Tindari, stir me, sweet friend, to raise myself to the sky from the rock, so that I might shape fear, for those who do not know what deep wind has searched me. - - Note: Tindari, ancient Tyndaris, lies on a coastal headland in the province of Messina, Italy.