Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, WHEN ORION ON THE WANE, by GIUSEPPE PARINI


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

WHEN ORION ON THE WANE, by                     Poet's Biography
Last Line: With wavering steps return
Subject(s): Poetry & Poets


When Orion on the wane
Rages, and down below
Upon the darkening earth.
Casts rain and frost and snow,

He marks me in the vile
Weather, with wavering tread
Mid mud and the oblique
Fury of traffic sped.

And through a treacherous stone
Projecting dangerously,
Or a false step, fall down
On the road suddenly.

The urchin laughs, but then
Looks tearful when he sees
How, falling, I have hurt
My elbow, chin or knees;

Others draw near; one says:
"O worthy poet, such harm
Thou hast not merited,"
And, speaking, takes my arm;

Then with a kindly hand
Helps me on to my feet,
Picks up my futile stick
And soiled hat from the street:

"Thy prosperous country gives
High praise to thee, sublime,
Immortal swan, whose name
Is safe from gnawing time,

And loudly vaunts thy fame,
And urges tiresomely
The Day's completion, whence
Even strangers flatter thee;

And yet these limbs made frail
By nature and long years
Nathless thou trailest 'twixt
Perils and constant fears.

Thy famous verse not even
A cheap conveyance pays
For shelter from the wild
Tempest at the cross-ways.

Disdainful spirit! Be
More careful, lest one day
Worse destiny befall
These hairs already grey.

Nor villas hast, nor friends,
Nor kin to whom to turn,
And thus o'er thousands be
Preferred in fortune's urn.

Hence, in so far thou canst.
The arduous ladder scale,
Each day in vestibules
And salons weep and wail;

Or tirelessly mid hordes
Of time-servers await,
Who humble them before
The vile who woo the great,

And, thanks to such, attain
The favour of these last,
And chase their tedium with
Gossip and jests broadcast;

Or, be thou so astute,
Discover the dim ways
Wherein a secret breath
The fate of peoples sways,

And, feigning a new scheme
For swelling public wealth,
Solicit funds, and then
Fish in the pool by stealth.

Must I then vainly preach,
Seeking to disabuse
Thy mind, O obstinate
Adorer of thy muse?

Leave her, or like a low
Mime mock she chastity,
Pandering to abject tastes
Decked ostentatiously!"

My wrath, deep in my breast
Too long constrained, leaps high,
Breaking impetuously
From bounds, and I reply:

"Who art thou, who wouldst raise
My aged limbs but thrust
My soul unto the ground ?
Piteous thou art, not just !

Good citizen is he
Who acts as doth beseem
His nature and estate
To merit all esteem;

Who asks with dignity
When old and sorely pressed,
With, on an open brow.
His soul made manifest;

And if hard hearts should turn
Aside, then he hath still
His conscience for a shield
And breast-plate against ill;

He is not crushed by pain
Nor puffed with pride, "I say,
And from all further help,
Indignant, wend my way;

Thus, grateful for support,
The advice I needs must scorn,
And home contentedly
With wavering steps return.





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