Italy is a country with a long history and interesting legends. Her beauty is a thing that those who see do not soon forget. It is a beauty which inspires the urge to create, whether in words or art.
Prior to my visit to Italy, I discovered Giacomo Leopardi’s poem, L’Infinito, (The Infinite). Many times I would remember his words, as I journeyed across la bella Italia. Walking the wide open spaces of the Sibillini Mountains, or seated at the walls of magnificent Urbino looking out across the verdant rolling hills, I was in awe of this country’s nature scenes.
I especially recall a train ride south through the Cava di Terreni area on a grey and drizzling afternoon. Either side of the train was flanked by mountains and something made me cry. My spirit, too, like Giacomo’s, was flooded with immense beauty.
Here’s my preferred English translation of the poem from Lorna de’ Lucchi on poetrymagic.co.uk.
The Infinite
I always loved this solitary hill,
This hedge as well, which takes so large a share
Of the far-flung horizon from my view;
But seated here, in contemplation lost,
My thought discovers vaster space beyond,
Supernal silence and unfathomed peace;
I am almost afraid; then, since I hear
The murmur of the wind among the leaves,
I match that infinite calm unto this sound
And with my mind embrace eternity,
The vivid, speaking present and dead past;
In such immensity my spirit drowns,
And sweet to me is shipwreck in this sea.
