This solitary hill has always been dear to me
And this hedge, which prevents me from seeing most of
The endless horizon.
But when I sit and gaze, I imagine, in my thoughts
Endless spaces beyond the hedge,
An all encompassing silence and a deeply profound quiet,
To the point that my heart is almost overwhelmed.
And when I hear the wind rustling through the trees
I compare its voice to the infinite silence.
And eternity occurs to me, and all the ages past,
And the present time, and its sound.
Amidst this immensity my thought drowns:
And to founder in this sea is sweet to me.
L'infinito
Sempre caro mi fu quest'ermo colle
E questa siepe che da tanta parte
De'l ultimo orrizonte il guarde esclude.
Ma sedendo e mirando interminati
Spazi di la da quella, e sovrumani
Silenzi, e profondissima quiete,
Io nel pensier mi fingo, ove per poco
Il cor non si spaura. E come il vento
Odo stormir tra queste piante, io quello
Infinito silenzio a questa voce
Vo comparando; e mi sovvien l'eterno,
E le morte stagioni, e la presente
E viva, e'l suon di lei. Cosi tra questa
Immensita s'annega il pensier mio:
E'l naufragar m'e dolce in questo mare.
I believe you wholly, Dr. Frosini, best wishes from Sylvia from The Netherlands
probably written in the autumn of 1819, it shows a keen sense of mortality conveyed in the dying of seasons and drowning of thoughts..
The poet has left readers with an enigma to ponder about. A thought-provoking rendition
the poem is beautiful but you read it like a robot, like a machine! like a bank accountant just try to understand and learn how to read a poem, I am so sorry for you
The translation tell exactly what I feel reading the original.. (RB, Italian born)
Sempre caro mi fu quest'ermo colle - This solitary hill has always been dear to me - but note that Leopardi hated Recanati and made several unsuccessful attempts to leave the village -
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
another translation: ''The Infinite'' It was always dear to me, this solitary hill, and this hedgerow here, that closes off my view, from so much of the ultimate horizon. But sitting here, and watching here, in thought, I create interminable spaces, greater than human silences, and deepest quiet, where the heart barely fails to terrify. When I hear the wind, blowing among these leaves, I go on to compare that infinite silence with this voice, and I remember the eternal and the dead seasons, and the living present, and its sound, so that in this immensity my thoughts are drowned, and shipwreck seems sweet to me in this sea.
This translation is my favorite. It has a soul depth. Bravo. Aloha