Tag Archives: cats

The Cats will know – Pavese – translation

(My translation of Cesare Pavese’s poem “The Cats will know”)

 

The Cats will know (Cesare Pavese)

 

Again the rain will fall
on your sweet paving stones,
a gentle rain
just like a breath or like a footfall.
Again the breeze, the dawn,
will lightly bloom,
as underneath your step
when you return.
Among the flowers and the windowsills
the cats will know.

There will be other days,
there will be other voices.
You shall smile on your own.
The cats will know.
You shall hear ancient words,
worn-out and fruitless words
like the discarded costumes
of the parties left from yesterday.

You too shall gesture.
You shall answer words –
face like springtime,
you too shall gesture.

The cats will know,
face like springtime;
and the light rain,
the hyacinth-coloured dawn,
which shred the heart
of him who has no longer
any hope of you,
are the sad smile
you smile alone.
There will be other days,
and other voices and awakenings.
We’ll suffer in the dawn,
face like springtime.

Translation: Phillip Hill 2018

Listen to the translation here

Italian original

The cats will know

Ancora cadrà la pioggia
sui tuoi dolci selciati,
una pioggia leggera
come un alito o un passo.
Ancora la brezza e l’alba
fioriranno leggere
come sotto il tuo passo,
quando tu rientrerai.
Tra fiori e davanzali
i gatti lo sapranno.

 

Ci saranno altri giorni,
ci saranno altre voci.
Sorriderai da sola.
I gatti lo sapranno.
Udrai parole antiche,
parole stanche e vane
come i costumi smessi
delle feste di ieri.

 

Farai gesti anche tu.
Risponderai parole-
viso di primavera;
farai gesti anche tu.

 

I gatti lo sapranno,
viso di primavera;
e la pioggia leggera,
l’alba color giacinto,
che dilaniano il cuore
di chi più non ti spera,
sono il triste sorriso
che sorridi da sola.
Ci saranno altri giorni,
altre voci e risvegli.
Soffriremo nell’alba,
viso di primavera.

 

(original read by Domenico Pelini)

 

Commentary

 

I think that the main point in translating this poem is to maintain the feeling of spontaneity. It is desperate but also whimsical. The verses of the poem themselves fall like the light rain of line 3.

In Italian the lines all have a similar length whereas a translation into English makes them much more variable. One could address this by rearranging the English. However, I preferred not to do that since it seems to me that each line has its own identity. In fact I think that one good way of reading this poem would be to pause for a second or two at the end of each line. It is as if each verse is a playing card the poet is turning over ( a few of which have surprising connections) as he sits distraught over a lost love but still appreciating the beautiful little things around him and the humour always in the air (the cats will know).

The most difficult thing to translate in this poem is the expression “viso di primavera” which Pavese uses to address the woman he is in love with. Literally “spring face” or “springtime face”. But in Italian the sound is so much prettier and the words more expressive. “Primavera” (spring) elicits, I think, Botticelli’s painting and this, to my mind, evokes a pale-faced beauty with the purity of spring in her traits and complexion. The English terms are duds by comparison and, I feel, evoke nothing.

The best way I have found to represent the feelings the Italian generates is “face like springtime”.

Head swivelling and the Art of Sleeping

I recently came across these two short films by the French director Chris Marker (1921-2012) from Bestiaire (1990). The first one is a cat sleeping on a piano. And the second a series of owls, mostly swivelling their heads rather amazingly.

Looking at the cat, I realised for the first time that sleeping can be an art form.

Also, the next time I find it hard to sleep I am going to try to imagine being that cat and see what happens. (I shall stop short of lying down on top of the piano keyboard, however).

The owls go through a range of motion which is so far beyond our abilities as to seem aliens or objects (periscopes, perhaps).

Also, there is something about these films which seems to belong to another time, although though they are quite recent. Perhaps it is just the fact that they seem completely separate from our new multi-tasking customs. Marker focuses on one thing and doesn’t get distracted.

Chat écoutant la musique

 

An owl is an owl is an owl

 

If you have now become curious about how far an owl can swivel its head, look at this:

 

A Party of One

(Listen to the poem here)



(best seen if you stand back and squint a little and imagine it as a set of slightly cubist paintings with runny paint and everything a little crooked)

Tonight I dine alone but,
better said,
I am a party of one.
I have brought all my music
with me
in my head
and I have
poems read to me
by poets I have never met.
They flit between the waiters
and bend their verses round the oil,
the pepper and the vinegar.
Read more…

Settetto buffo di sette gatti

Cats

I can’t find where the original of this picture comes from. I suppose the instrument must be a gattoforte, because it must be pinching their tails or something not too pleasant, so there is no way they are yowling softly, which means it is definitely not a gattopiano  I think someone should compose a piece to go with it, using some sampled cat sounds. In the meantime, since we don’t have a septet yet, while five cats sit on the sidelines, here is a recording of Rossini’s Cat Duet  (Duetto  buffo di due gatti) performed by Victoria de los Angeles and Elisabeth Schwarzkopf .

Montezuma’s Revenge

(Listen to the poem here)




I used to have a frog,” the lady says,

which changed its colour when it sang-

until one day it was eaten by the cat”.

The cat itself

stares at us from the corner,

sitting in Egyptian style,

blinking uncomfortably its

blue..

no, green…

red (?)

eyes.

                                                                                                            Phillip Hill 2003

 

 

 

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(This poem is included in my book The Observation Car which is available from