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Wild Broom: Or, The Flower of the Desert

2015; Boston University; Volume: 23; Issue: 1 Linguagem: Inglês

10.1353/arn.2015.0026

2327-6436

Giacomo Leopardi,

Joseph Conrad and Literature

Wild Broom Or, The Flower of the Desert (Canti, xxxiv) GIACOMO LEOPARDI (Translated by Steven J. Willett) To Christopher Willett Kai; hjgavphsan oiJ a[nqrwpoi màllon to; sko;to~ h] to; fw`~ And men loved darkness rather than the light —John, III:19 Here on the arid spine of the formidable mountain, destroyer Vesuvius, brightened by no other tree or flower, you scatter round your lonely bushes, fragrant broom, content in the desert. I once saw your arion 23.1 spring/summer 2015 stalks adorn the desolate regions that encircle the City that was mistress of mortals in its time, and with their grave and silent aspect fashion proof and memory for the passer-by of that lost empire. Now I see you again on this soil, of sad and world-abandoned places a lover and constant companion of harsh fate. These fields strewn with barren ash, and heaped with hardened lava, which resounds under the feet of the traveler; where snakes nest and coil in the sun and where the rabbit returns to its accustomed cavernous burrow; once there were rich towns and planted fields, golden with grain, and resonate with the lowing of cattle; once there were gardens and royal palaces, for the leisure of the powerful welcome retreats; once there were famous cities, which the proud mountain with the torrents fulminating from its fiery mouth destroyed with all their people. Now everywhere ruin envelops all where you root, O gentle flower, and, as if commiserating with others’ loss, send to heaven a perfume of sweetest fragrance that consoles the desert. To this wasteland let those who are wont to exalt with praise our condition come and see, and witness how much all-loving Nature cares for our race. They can also estimate with a just measure the power of humankind, which the harsh nurse, when least expected, wild broom: or, the flower of the desert 24 with a slight motion in a moment annuls a part, and can with a motion barely less slight, in an instant annihilate utterly. Depicted on these hills are the human race’s “Magnificent and progressive fate.” Look here and see your reflection, proud and foolish century, you who have abandoned the path marked till now by resurgent thought, and turned your steps backward, boasting of a reversion you call progress. At your childish babbling all the thinkers, whose evil fate made you their father, go about flattering you, though at times, among themselves, they make you a laughingstock. I’ll not descend to my grave with such shame; but rather the contempt that I harbor for you in my heart I’ll show as openly as possible, though I know that oblivion crushes those who denounce their own age. But this evil, which we’ll share in common, I’ve mocked enough. You’re dreaming of liberty, and once again you want to make a slave of thought, that thought by which alone we rise in part from barbarism, and by which alone civilization flourishes, which alone guides our common destiny to the noblest end. So you regret the truth of the harsh fate and the depressed place that Nature has assigned us. Therefore you Giacomo Leopardi 25 cowardly turn your back on the light that made it manifest; and, in flight, you call him who pursues that light vile, and only him magnanimous who, mocking himself or others, astutely or foolishly, exalts the human state above the stars. A man of modest condition and infirm limbs who is generous and noble of soul doesn’t call or vaunt himself rich in possessions or physically strong, makes no foolish show of a luxurious life or an elegant appearance among the crowd; but destitute of power and wealth he lets himself appear unashamed and calls things, speaking frankly, by their true name and rates his own affairs as they fit truth. I do not of course believe him a magnanimous creature, but stupid who, born to die and nurtured in pain, says: “I am made for joy” and with his fetid pride fills pages promising an exalted destiny on earth and new happiness, which heaven ignores completely, much less this world...