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WILLIAM WORDSWORTH (1770-1850)
Lyrical Ballads is a collection of poems written together with Coleridge; the preface is considered the manifesto of the Romantic movement in English literature; Coleridge's labour was to write about supernatural, Wordsworth one was to give novelty to everyday things.
Wordsworth labour was to reconcile realism and poetry; in fact before him realism was confined to prose while poets still used artificial poetic diction; poetry was to deal with incidentds and si 757b12h tuations from common life, specially humble rustic life because simple people living in the countryside can understand better the nature because is in contact with it.
Wordsworth used a very simple language, near to the spoken one and far from poetic diction.
Imagination played an important role; it was the capacity of modify the objects observed giving them an unusual aspect; the poet's eyes could see the reality deeper than the ordinary people ones.
Poetry doesn't describe just natural and simple objects with cold and objective realism but sees all the things through the eyes of memory that recollects old emotions; in fact feelings in poetry are the result of the emotions recollected in tranquillity and so poetry isn't the representation of original emotions but past feelings contemplated and reorganized.
Wordsworth had a higher degree of sensibility and imaginative capacity than the others, he's able to communicate the essence of things in a simple and unelaborated language; he's a moral teacher that has to purify men's emotions.
The two main themes in the author's poetry are nature and childhood.
Leopardi vs. Wordsworth: both believed that recollection was essential to poetry but with some differences: according to Wordsworth, before birth the soul already exists in heaven and the youth recollects the heavenly state of soul; the poet, as a child, can call back this heavenly state through imagination. Leopardi, on the contrary, always denied the possibility of consolation in heavenly hopes. Besides Leopardi had a very pessimistic idea of nature, it's beautiful but it appears indifferent to the human pains, nature can be just a source of consolation; also Wordsworth considered nature a source of consolation but he also it as a moral guide during all the life, an escape from the horrors of the industrial society.
Blake vs. Wordsworth: according to Wordsworth in the childhood (the least corrupted age) we have the most complete knowledge that diminishes as we grow up and finally finishes even if we can recollect it through nature; instead Blake says that comes from experience and so as a child grows up, he takes the knowledge; furthermore Wordsworth doesn't concern with the social problems of the children, Blake takes into consideration the matters children have in social argument and with adults.
The Rainbow (L'Arcobaleno)
My heart leaps up when I behold
A rainbow in the sky:
So was it when my life began;
So is it now I am a man;
So be it when I shall grow old,
Or let me die!
The Child is father of the Man;
And I could wish my days to be
Bound each to each by natural piety.
Il mio cuore balza in piedi quando vedo
Un arcobaleno nel cielo:
Era così quando la mia vita iniziò;
Così è ora che sono un uomo;
Sia così quando invecchierò,
O mi lasci morire!
Il Bambino è padre dell'Uomo;
E posso desiderare che i miei giorni siano
Legati l'un l'altro dalla devozione per la natura.
Here is presented the theme of childhood: the poet is happy when sees a rainbow because he recollects his childhood; in fact nature has the power to underline the relationship between child and adult, the child is the father of the man; also childhood has the power to underline the relationship between nature and the adult. Only in childhood there's a perfect communion with nature that diminishes as we grow up; but there are moments in which we remember the happy moments of childhood thanks to the sight of nature, together with memory and meditation.
Daffodils (Narcisi)
I wandered
lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced but they
Outdid the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed -and gazed- but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
Vagabondavo solo come una nuvola
Che fluttua in alto sopra valli e colline,
Quando a un tratto vidi una folla,
Una schiera di dorati narcisi;
Lungo il lago, sotto gli alberi,
Svolazzando e danzando nella brezza.
Fitti come le stelle che brillano
E sfavillano nella Via Lattea,
Si stendevano in una linea infinita
Lungo le rive di una baia:
Diecimila ne vidi d'improvviso
Scuotendo le loro teste in una danza vivace.
Le onde accanto a loro danzavano ma loro
Sorpassavano le scintillanti onde in allegria;
Un poeta non poteva che esser felice,
In una così felice compagnia.
Ammiravo -e ammiravo- ma pensai poco
Al benessere che la scena mi aveva portato:
Poiché spesso, quando me ne sto disteso
Con umore vuoto o pensieroso,
Essi balenano a quell'occhio interiore
Che è la felicità della solitudine,
E allora il mio cuore si riempie di piacere,
E danza coi narcisi.
The poet represents nature as a powerful being able to make him happy; this image of communion will always be remembered by the poet; in fact he says that wherever he will think to this, he well be once more happy; this is the power of nature, but also of the recollection, of the memory, to make happy our inner part.
The Tables Turned (La situazione rovesciata)
Up! up! my Friend, and quit your books;
Or surely you'll grow double:
Up! up! my Friend, and clear your looks;
Why all this toil and trouble?
The sun above the mountain's head,
A freshening lustre mellow
Through all the long green fields has spread,
His first sweet evening yellow.
Books! 'tis a dull and endless strife:
Come, hear the woodland linnet,
How sweet his music! on my life,
There's more of wisdom in it.
Su! Su! Amico mio, e chiudi i tuoi libri;
O crescerai sicuramente gobbo:
Su! Su! Amico mio, e lustrati gli occhi;
Perché tutta questa fatica e preoccupazione?
Il sole sopra la cima della montagna,
Un rinfrescante dolce splendore
Ha diffuso attraverso tutti i lunghi campi verdi,
Il suo primo dolce giallo serale.
Libri! Che conflitto noioso e senza fine:
Vieni, ascolta il fanello di bosco,
Com'è dolce la sua musica! sulla mia vita,
C'è più saggezza in quello.
And hark! how blithe the throstle sings!
He, too, is no mean preacher:
Come forth into the light of things,
Let Nature be your teacher.
She has a world of ready wealth,
Our minds and hearts to bless.
Spontaneous wisdom breathed by health,
Truth breathed by cheerfulness.
One impulse from a vernal wood
May teach you more of man,
Of moral evil and of good,
Than all the sages can.
Sweet is the lore which Nature brings;
Our meddling intellect
Mis-shapes the beauteous forms of things:
We murder to dissect.
Enough of Science and of Art;
Close up those barren leaves;
Come forth, and bring with you a heart
That watches and receives.
E ascolta! Come canta spensierato il tordo!
Anche lui, non c'è miglior predicatore:
Vieni avanti alla luce delle cose,
Lascia la Natura essere tua insegnante.
Essa ha un mondo di pronto benessere,
Le nostre menti da benedire.
Spontanea saggezza respirata dal benessere,
Verità respirata dall'allegria.
Un impulso dalla foresta primaverile
Può insegnarti di più sull'uomo,
Sulla cattiva moralità e sul bene,
Di quanto tutti i saggi possano.
Dolce è la conoscenza che la natura porta;
Il nostro intelletto impiccione
Deforma le felici forme delle cose:
Uccidiamo per analizzare.
Basta di Scienza e di Arte;
Chiudi quelle aride pagine;
Vieni avanti, e porta con te un cuore
Che guarda e riceve.
Subtitle: "An Evening Scene on the Same Subject".
"The Tables Turned" is a ballad (he chose to employ ballad to broke with the poetic practice of traditional English) written in eight stanzas that concerns about the theme of the knowledge: he urges his friend Matthew (maybe William Taylor) to give up his books, to give Nature the chance to be his teacher and to have the hearth in a state of alertness, ready to receive Nature's lessons.
There's a climax all the poem long: the mood begins in a playfully way but the light mood is gradually replaced by a semi-serious one. It's particularly evident in the difference between stanza six and seven (the clearest climax); the sixth is very simple to understand, the rhythm is calm, regular, emphatic while the seventh is irregular in rhythm and polysyllabic; we can see differences also in the content: the poet passes from the power of Nature to the horrible use of cold rationalism. The final line of stanza seven is the most forceful and dramatic of the poem. In stanza eight the atmosphere seems to turn back to a more hopeful and less intense degree.
Matthew represents the old values and Wordsworth attacks the ideas about moral philosophy typical of his time. When a person is affected by a natural perception of beauty in springtime, he's immediately and intuitively sensitive to what is good and what is evil. This moral intuition in better than the judgements done on the basis of the philosophical system. In stanza seven we can see how this system works, ruining Nature (we murder to dissect, to understand how Nature is inside creatures). This is a critic of the use of logical and rational mind upon moral questions.
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