FRA MONTE PINCIO / FROM MONTE PINCIO Pincio is one of Rome’s hills, although not one of the famous Seven hills. Terrazza del Pincio is the spot overlooking Piazzo del Popolo. In the gardens of the Pincio, the viali (gravelled paths) are lined with busts of notable Italians, referred to in the first verse. Bjørnson visited Rome in 1860. In the second verse he commented on what turned out to be Italy’s unification the next year. The poem contains four verses, of which Grieg selected only the first and last. NORWEGIAN LYRICS by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson (1832–1910) Aftenen kommer, solen står rød, farvende stråler i rommet henskylle lyslengslens glans i uendelig fylde; — fjellet forklares, som åsyn i død. Kuplene gløder, men lengere borte tåken langs markenes blålige sorte vugger oppover som glemselen før: over hin dal dekker tusen års slør. Aftenen, hvor rød og varm! blusser av folkelarm, glødende hornmusikk, blomster og brune blikk. — Fortidens store står rundt om, knapt kjente, bundne i marmor og vente. [Last two lines were replaced by Grieg from another verse: Tankene streber i farver og toner trofast mot det som forsoner.] Stille det bliver, enn dunklere blå himmelen våker og venter; — oppunder fortid som drømmer, og fremtid som stunder, usikre bluss i det rugende grå! Men — de vil samle seg, Roma fremstige lystent en natt for Italias rike: Klokkene kimer, kanonene slå, minnene flammer på fremtidens blå! — Yndig om håp og tro opp mot nygifte to jubler en sanger til sitar og fløytespill. Sterkere lengsler får barnesøt hvile — mindre tør våkne og smile. MODERN ENGLISH TRANSLATION by Jarle Brosveet* Evening is coming, the sun is all red Colourful rays are soon filling the spaces Light that we cherrish transforming the places Mountains are glowing, appearing as if dead Domes still aglow, but farther away Fields will be misty, now vanishes the day Nature gets cloudy, concealing the sight Darkening valleys, preparing for the night Evening will still be hot Teeming with folks a lot To music they will dance Flowers and a flirty glance Statues of old, all in marble, spectating Silent they are as if waiting Soon all is quiet, all is deep blue Heaven above will still not be sleeping Dreams of the past and plans it is keeping Flickering hopes awaiting to come true People will rally, all Rome will unite Change soon will happen one moonlit night Bells will be chiming, cannons will blast Reminding the people of Italy’s past! Serenades of hope are led For people newly wed By singers all around Zithers and flutes will sound Violent sentiments now will be failing More gentle feelings prevailing OLD-FASHIONED ENGLISH TRANSLATION by unknown author Evening, how tender! Sunset, how red! All with a rosate glow is enlightened Basking in sunshine the mountain is brightened Rapt and serene as the face of the dead Domes in the sweet scented distance are gleaming Mists blue and grey o’er the meadows come streaming Rolling adown as oblivion has roll’d. Wearing a garment a thousand years old Gleameth all red and warm Ev’ning falls, people swarm Mountain horns sound above Flower-scent, looks of love All heart could wish gleams and bounds sweetly near us Yearning for beauty to cheer us Deepens the stillness, darkens the day And from the ghosts of the past thus beholding Heaven is surely the future unfolding Shimmering vagely in gathering grey But, like a beacon will Rome one day waken Brighten the darkness of Italy forsaken Tocsins will echo and canons will roar! Fiercely will blaze out the spirit of yore Wedding strain, sound amain! Flute so gay, zither play! Out of time’s scroll impart Hope to the trusting heart Italy, look to the blest goal unshaken Tenderer feelings will waken GERMAN TRANSLATION by Wilhelm Henzen (1850–1910) Abend, wie milde! Sonne, wie rot! Alles erfüllt sich mit farbingen Glanze, schweigend im Lichte verklärt sich das Ganze, klärt sich der Berg wie ein Anlitz im Tot. Kuppeln in duftiger Ferne erglühen, blauschwarze Nebel die Felder umziehen, wallen einher, wie Vergessenheit wallt, weben ein Kleid, das Jahrtausende alt. Alles glüht rot und warm, Abendschein, Volkesschwarm; Alles glüht, Hornmusik, Blumenduft, heisser Blick. Alles begehrst, rings umstrahlt und umtönet, sehnlich nach dem, was versöhnet. Stiller nun wird es, es dunkelt das Blau, und aus der dämmernden Vorzeit Gestalten sieht sich der Himmel die Zukunft entfalten, unsicher schimmerd in brütendem Grau. Doch, eine Leuchte wird Roma erstarken, hellen die Nacht von Italiens Marken; Glockengeläute, Kanonengedröhn! Flammend wird wieder die Vorzeit erstehn. Töne denn Hochgesang, Zitherspiel, Flötenklang! Gib von der Zeiten Bund gläubigen Herzenskund’! Sehnsucht Italias träumet von Ziehle, wach werden sanfte Gefühle. * CC BY 4.0: The license lets others distribute, remix, tweak, and build upon these lyrics, even commercially, as long as they credit the creator. ➤ Back to ‘From Monte Pincio’ ➤ Back to main page