She has not yet eighteen, Marina Tsvetaeva , when she wrote the verses that make up Album After Hours . It will be the first book published in 1910 in Moscow - a poet of the first magnitude , after the Revolution forced to wander the world, until the outcome of the tragic and ammutolente suicide. These verses steeped in a somnambulistic intimacy , blended with inner landscapes more than real. And above are true tests of voice. A voice that takes advantage of the darkness of night , to have the courage of expression that is destined to disappear at dawn , ' ll your fiery delirium, gilded pink sheets / appear laughable in the morning. I do not feel the sunrise ! / Will appear in the morning an essay, an arid scholar / poet who was at night . " But the album - divided into three sections: childhood , Love , Only shadows - is precisely more evening and night . The night is more sensed than described : " ... I feel Abbu ia beat the tax / above all else is the next night." Yet it is lurking a bit ' dappettutto ; these verses are full of omens, and do not think it's just hindsight to make us see them in even the arrival of the Revolution.
Who has eyes like Tsvetaeva , antivede . And it is not only visions of the world around them , it is primarily dreamlike depictions of herself : " I want it all : with soul of gypsy / let me go on raids and songs, / to suffer all to the sound of the organ, / by Amazon in mschia lash out . " We have to thank Paola Ferretti if today we can read in Italian Evening Album .
And if we read about Paola Ferretti in Italian " Evening Album ."
It is she who , together with Giuliano Ladolfi Publisher , took care of these verses , translating and introducing them . He tried to make "the rhythmic pulse of the original ', using primarily the hendecasyllable , " albeit with frequent irregularities . "
In his introductory essay , the Ferretti defines the entire album as "a succession of leave ." And it is not only by leave of individual things or people or reality : it is also of the leaves of each section of the book than the previous . It is therefore no coincidence that the last part with a title only shadows " converged with the shadow , my beloved . / Forgetting is not my power. / And your countenance unmoved , in the shelter / of my eyelids ." It's amazing how these verses already in youth , Tsvetaeva individuals in the shadows its emblem existential : " Under this sign - writes Ferretti take shape infatuations more intense and poetically fruitful for those Blok , Pasternak , Rilke. Love predestined from the dream and crowned by the shadow ', which corresponds to a significant and dramatic change in status : from " lover to that of chimera ."
" Pronuba there was the shadow in this life, / and only the shadows will be sacred " here is two more verses , which appear in almost closing the Album, to establish a path of thick dense images , images which in turn were formed by drinking visually to the work of painters such as Goya , for example .
Album, therefore, not only to listen as you listen to a disc , but also to see. On the other hand , poetry has always practiced the art of seeing the words . And how could escape it of the strength of a poet Marina Tsvetaeva , albeit his first verses ?
Silvio Perrella
Il Mattino