The Submarine
(Translated from the Italian of Luciano Folgore by Anne Simon)
It sinks. In the twilight of the waterthe conquered submarinefalls straight to the bottomand seems like a black corpsethrown to the coral below,thrown to the tomb that devourswith liquid joythe refuse and remains of the old world.The propellers, devourers of motion,buzz no more,the rudder has ceased turning,the prow no longer points its sharp beak,but the submarine extends itselfon the viscid bed,and a multitude of unknownfish, coral and sea-nettlestry to enter the closed apertures.And yet once you leaped in the sunlike a sentinel of burnished steelshining in the distance,and then rapidly returned to the green gorgewhere the sun never reaches,but where you findthe tremendous taskthat is always with you and that whispers couragein the void of your soul.And once with your agile metallic prowyou agitated the green waterall around your shining body,and you did not feel the tormentsof the winds nor the blackclouds of the hurricanethat remained like spiteful womenin a corner of the horizon,with hair dishevelled and the eye eagerto spy below, from the firmament,the lost, the shipwrecked, the unknownthat have no pilot.Once from your sonorous sides,quietly, but vigilant and mad,the torpedo shot out,making its track in silence,and carryingwithin its thin bodydeath, and the infinitepower of dynamite.As you passed the sharks fled,as you passed the coralssuspended their tenacious and clumsy work,and the fish with rapid movementswam away.You seemed like an enormous monsterof a fantastic destinyand yet you are only a light submarine,a slender shipthat the blow of a beamcould sink, that a whirlpool could submergein the abyss.I do not know your story,but I will sing your glorythat is part of the desireof audacious men.Submarine, Destiny may have willedyou to sink silently,and remain lost forever in the viscid bed of the sea-weed,(O submarine, able to challenge the unconsciousness of the seasand the impotence of the lighthouses,)but you are alive and strong;there is no death, but only an appearanceof death that remains. Destinynewly moulds youin a long phantomand you are run, submarine,by the courage of menwho, in the unfathomable silence of the water,are pilotedby the will of the strong.New brothers will ariseand pursue youbecause your shining backcarries a banner, not tri-colored,nor French,but the only colorthat dazzles;the banner of the battlethat amidst disasters combatswith this ferocious mysterythat is foolishly determined to shut us outfrom the doors of Nature.
It sinks. In the twilight of the waterthe conquered submarinefalls straight to the bottomand seems like a black corpsethrown to the coral below,thrown to the tomb that devourswith liquid joythe refuse and remains of the old world.The propellers, devourers of motion,buzz no more,the rudder has ceased turning,the prow no longer points its sharp beak,but the submarine extends itselfon the viscid bed,and a multitude of unknownfish, coral and sea-nettlestry to enter the closed apertures.And yet once you leaped in the sunlike a sentinel of burnished steelshining in the distance,and then rapidly returned to the green gorgewhere the sun never reaches,but where you findthe tremendous taskthat is always with you and that whispers couragein the void of your soul.And once with your agile metallic prowyou agitated the green waterall around your shining body,and you did not feel the tormentsof the winds nor the blackclouds of the hurricanethat remained like spiteful womenin a corner of the horizon,with hair dishevelled and the eye eagerto spy below, from the firmament,the lost, the shipwrecked, the unknownthat have no pilot.Once from your sonorous sides,quietly, but vigilant and mad,the torpedo shot out,making its track in silence,and carryingwithin its thin bodydeath, and the infinitepower of dynamite.As you passed the sharks fled,as you passed the coralssuspended their tenacious and clumsy work,and the fish with rapid movementswam away.You seemed like an enormous monsterof a fantastic destinyand yet you are only a light submarine,a slender shipthat the blow of a beamcould sink, that a whirlpool could submergein the abyss.I do not know your story,but I will sing your glorythat is part of the desireof audacious men.Submarine, Destiny may have willedyou to sink silently,and remain lost forever in the viscid bed of the sea-weed,(O submarine, able to challenge the unconsciousness of the seasand the impotence of the lighthouses,)but you are alive and strong;there is no death, but only an appearanceof death that remains. Destinynewly moulds youin a long phantomand you are run, submarine,by the courage of menwho, in the unfathomable silence of the water,are pilotedby the will of the strong.New brothers will ariseand pursue youbecause your shining backcarries a banner, not tri-colored,nor French,but the only colorthat dazzles;the banner of the battlethat amidst disasters combatswith this ferocious mysterythat is foolishly determined to shut us outfrom the doors of Nature.
It sinks. In the twilight of the waterthe conquered submarinefalls straight to the bottomand seems like a black corpsethrown to the coral below,thrown to the tomb that devourswith liquid joythe refuse and remains of the old world.The propellers, devourers of motion,buzz no more,the rudder has ceased turning,the prow no longer points its sharp beak,but the submarine extends itselfon the viscid bed,and a multitude of unknownfish, coral and sea-nettlestry to enter the closed apertures.
It sinks. In the twilight of the water
the conquered submarine
falls straight to the bottom
and seems like a black corpse
thrown to the coral below,
thrown to the tomb that devours
with liquid joy
the refuse and remains of the old world.
The propellers, devourers of motion,
buzz no more,
the rudder has ceased turning,
the prow no longer points its sharp beak,
but the submarine extends itself
on the viscid bed,
and a multitude of unknown
fish, coral and sea-nettles
try to enter the closed apertures.
And yet once you leaped in the sunlike a sentinel of burnished steelshining in the distance,and then rapidly returned to the green gorgewhere the sun never reaches,but where you findthe tremendous taskthat is always with you and that whispers couragein the void of your soul.And once with your agile metallic prowyou agitated the green waterall around your shining body,and you did not feel the tormentsof the winds nor the blackclouds of the hurricanethat remained like spiteful womenin a corner of the horizon,with hair dishevelled and the eye eagerto spy below, from the firmament,the lost, the shipwrecked, the unknownthat have no pilot.
And yet once you leaped in the sun
like a sentinel of burnished steel
shining in the distance,
and then rapidly returned to the green gorge
where the sun never reaches,
but where you find
the tremendous task
that is always with you and that whispers courage
in the void of your soul.
And once with your agile metallic prow
you agitated the green water
all around your shining body,
and you did not feel the torments
of the winds nor the black
clouds of the hurricane
that remained like spiteful women
in a corner of the horizon,
with hair dishevelled and the eye eager
to spy below, from the firmament,
the lost, the shipwrecked, the unknown
that have no pilot.
Once from your sonorous sides,quietly, but vigilant and mad,the torpedo shot out,making its track in silence,and carryingwithin its thin bodydeath, and the infinitepower of dynamite.As you passed the sharks fled,as you passed the coralssuspended their tenacious and clumsy work,and the fish with rapid movementswam away.You seemed like an enormous monsterof a fantastic destinyand yet you are only a light submarine,a slender shipthat the blow of a beamcould sink, that a whirlpool could submergein the abyss.
Once from your sonorous sides,
quietly, but vigilant and mad,
the torpedo shot out,
making its track in silence,
and carrying
within its thin body
death, and the infinite
power of dynamite.
As you passed the sharks fled,
as you passed the corals
suspended their tenacious and clumsy work,
and the fish with rapid movement
swam away.
You seemed like an enormous monster
of a fantastic destiny
and yet you are only a light submarine,
a slender ship
that the blow of a beam
could sink, that a whirlpool could submerge
in the abyss.
I do not know your story,but I will sing your glorythat is part of the desireof audacious men.Submarine, Destiny may have willedyou to sink silently,and remain lost forever in the viscid bed of the sea-weed,(O submarine, able to challenge the unconsciousness of the seasand the impotence of the lighthouses,)but you are alive and strong;there is no death, but only an appearanceof death that remains. Destinynewly moulds youin a long phantomand you are run, submarine,by the courage of menwho, in the unfathomable silence of the water,are pilotedby the will of the strong.
I do not know your story,
but I will sing your glory
that is part of the desire
of audacious men.
Submarine, Destiny may have willed
you to sink silently,
and remain lost forever in the viscid bed of the sea-weed,
(O submarine, able to challenge the unconsciousness of the seas
and the impotence of the lighthouses,)
but you are alive and strong;
there is no death, but only an appearance
of death that remains. Destiny
newly moulds you
in a long phantom
and you are run, submarine,
by the courage of men
who, in the unfathomable silence of the water,
are piloted
by the will of the strong.
New brothers will ariseand pursue youbecause your shining backcarries a banner, not tri-colored,nor French,but the only colorthat dazzles;the banner of the battlethat amidst disasters combatswith this ferocious mysterythat is foolishly determined to shut us outfrom the doors of Nature.
New brothers will arise
and pursue you
because your shining back
carries a banner, not tri-colored,
nor French,
but the only color
that dazzles;
the banner of the battle
that amidst disasters combats
with this ferocious mystery
that is foolishly determined to shut us out
from the doors of Nature.