Soffia, vento. 

Stasera scrivendo altrove mi è improvvisamente apparsa in sovraimpressione (anche a voi i pensieri si palesano così, come codici per votare i concorrenti a XFactor? Oppure è solo un problema mio?) l’espressione (quanto sono astuta a piazzare una parentesi tra queste due parole, “sovraimpressione” ed “espressione”, così non c’è l’effetto cacofonico della rima e di troppe sibilanti? E quanto poco lo sono ad accostare subito dopo per farvi notare che non l’ho fatto prima?), santociélo, dicevo, l’espressione vento di ponente. 

Giuro, non guardo sceneggiati Rai da prima di prendere la patente, quindi non è quello. Mi è proprio venuta, così. Vento di ponente, fa il pescator contente, dice il proverbio. Wikipedia invece dice che il vento di ponente soffia in Toscana e annuncia il bel tempo, e si chiama anche Zefiro. Come lo zucchero. Insomma, un vento dolce, il vento di ponente. Un vento che allittera. Un vento di speranza. 

Vento di ponente mi piace molto. Non è come il maestrale, ché urla e biancheggia il mare, o il libeccio che strapazza il mare sopra, e sotto lo rimescola, no, Zefiro torna, e ‘l bel tempo rimena. 

Soffia, vento.

  1. [I] O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn’s being,
  2. thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead
  3. are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing,
  4. yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red,
  5. pestilence-stricken multitudes: O, thou,
  6. who chariotest to their dark wintry bed
  7. the winged seeds, where they lie cold and low,
  8. each like a corpse within its grave, until
  9. thine azure sister of the spring shall blow
  10. her clarion o’er the dreaming earth, and fill
  11. (driving sweet buds like flocks to feed in air)
  12. with living hues and odours plain and hill:
  13. wild Spirit, which art moving every where;
  14. destroyer and preserver; hear, O, hear!
  15. [II] Thou on whose stream, ‘mid the steep sky’s commotion,
  16. loose clouds like earth’s decaying leaves are shed,
  17. shook from the tangled boughs of Heaven and Ocean,
  18. angels of rain and lightning: there are spread
  19. on the blue surface of thine airy surge,
  20. like the bright hair uplifted from the head
  21. of some fierce Mænad, even from the dim verge
  22. of the horizon to the zenith’s height
  23. the locks of the approaching storm. Thou dirge
  24. of the dying year, to which this closing night
  25. will be the dome of a vast sepulchre,
  26. vaulted with all thy congregated might
  27. of vapours, from whose solid atmosphere
  28. black rain, and fire, and hail will burst: O, hear!
  29. [III] Thou who didst waken from his summer dreams
  30. the blue Mediterranean, where he lay,
  31. lulled by the coil of his crystalline streams,
  32. beside a pumice isle in Baiæ’s bay,
  33. and saw in sleep old palaces and towers
  34. quivering within the wave’s intenser day,
  35. all overgrown with azure moss and flowers
  36. so sweet, the sense faints picturing them! Thou
  37. for whose path the Atlantic’s level powers
  38. cleave themselves into chasms, while far below
  39. the sea-blooms and the oozy woods which wear
  40. the sapless foliage of the ocean, know
  41. thy voice, and suddenly grow grey with fear,
  42. and tremble and despoil themselves: O, hear!
  43. [IV] If I were a dead leaf thou mightest bear;
  44. if I were a swift cloud to fly with thee;
  45. a wave to pant beneath thy power, and share
  46. the impulse of thy strength, only less free
  47. than thou, O, uncontroulable! If even
  48. I were as in my boyhood, and could be
  49. the comrade of thy wanderings over heaven,
  50. as then, when to outstrip thy skiey speed
  51. scarce seemed a vision; I would ne’er have striven
  52. as thus with thee in prayer in my sore need.
  53. Oh! lift me as a wave, a leaf, a cloud!
  54. I fall upon the thorns of life! I bleed!
  55. A heavy weight of hours has chained and bowed
  56. one too like thee: tameless, and swift, and proud.
  57. [V] Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is:
  58. what if my leaves are falling like its own!
  59. The tumult of thy mighty harmonies
  60. will take from both a deep, autumnal tone,
  61. sweet though in sadness. Be thou, spirit fierce,
  62. my spirit! Be thou me, impetuous one!
  63. Drive my dead thoughts over the universe
  64. like withered leaves to quicken a new birth!
  65. And, by the incantation of this verse,
  66. scatter, as from an unextinguished hearth
  67. ashes and sparks, my words among mankind!
  68. Be through my lips to unawakened earth
  69. the trumpet of a prophecy! O, wind,
  70. if Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?

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