[Julie Steiner]

from Orlando Furioso Canto X, stanzas 104-105, by Ludovico Ariosto (the Emilia-Romagna region of what is now Italy, 1474-1533)

The warrior Ruggiero, mounted on a winged horse, is doing battle with a sea-monster. The previous stanza has compared him to an eagle attacking a snake and keeping clear of the poisonous head.


VERSE TRANSLATION:

Ruggiero does the same: he strikes and spears
not where the teeth lie in a deadly row,
but aims instead between the monster’s ears.
Now on its back or tail he lands a blow,
and with each movement of the beast he veers
away accordingly, darts high, dives low,
but may as well be hitting adamant,
so rock-like is the brute’s integument.

Likewise in August the intrepid fly
makes war against the mastiff in the dust
(or in September, or indeed July
the month of wheat – the other’s full of must):
it bites him on the snout and stings his eye,
keeping nearby, but out of harm’s way – just.
The dog’s jaws make a futile snapping sound,
but fly too close and there’s a happy hound.


ORIGINAL ITALIAN:

Così Ruggier con l'asta e con la spada,
non dove era de' denti armato il muso,
ma vuol che 'l colpo tra l'orecchie cada,
or su le schene, or ne la coda giuso.
Se la fera si volta, ei muta strada,
ed a tempo giù cala, e poggia in suso:
ma come sempre giunga in un diaspro,
non può tagliar lo scoglio duro ed aspro.

Simil battaglia fa la mosca audace
contra il mastin nel polveroso agosto,
o nel mese dinanzi o nel seguace,
l'uno di spiche e l'altro pien di mosto:
negli occhi il punge e nel grifo mordace,
volagli intorno e gli sta sempre accosto;
e quel suonar fa spesso il dente asciutto:
ma un tratto che gli arrivi, appaga il tutto.


ENGLISH PROSE CRIB:

Ruggiero [does] thus with his spear and with his sword,
not where the muzzle was armed with teeth,
but he wants the blow to fall between the ears,
now on the back, now down towards the tail.
If the beast turns he changes position,
and at the appropriate moment dives down, and shoots upwards:
But always as if he were encountering jasper/chalcedony/agate,
he cannot cut the hard and rough rock[-like hide].

The bold fly makes a similar battle
against the mastiff in dusty August,
or in the month before or after,
the one full of wheat and the other of must [fermenting fruit]:
it stings his eyes and bites his snout,
it flies around him and stays always close;
and the dry tooth makes that sound often:
but as soon as the fly comes within reach, there’s full satisfaction.

[Julie Steiner]

NOTES ON THE POEM CHOICE:

Hmmm, a snippet from Orlando Furioso...I wonder whose this could be...

Obviously the dog-versus-fly scenario, which most audience members have probably witnessed firsthand, helps us to more vividly imagine the sea-monster-versus-knight-riding-a-winged-horse scenario, which (show of hands?) few have seen.

However, even the more ordinary scenario in the second stanza has an unexpected twist. Since our hero, Ruggiero, has been identified with the fly, readers are asked to take the pest's point of view--a perspective to which they are probably unaccustomed. Meanwhile, the reader's longstanding empathy for flies' victims sneakily extends from the beleaguered mastiff to the beleaguered sea monster, both of whom want the satisfaction of crushing what's stinging them. We now understand, and even somewhat feel for, the mindset of the monster, even though we still root for Ruggiero.

So, the familiar second stanza does more than just illustrate the fantastic first stanza; it makes our experience of both the mundane and the imagined more multi-dimensional.

I do wish the almanac-like discussion of what the various months are known for were a little less intrusive in the second stanza, but if Ariosto put it in there, the translator can't do much about it. And I guess that it does ground that bit more firmly in the realm of the audience's firsthand knowledge. Still....


NOTES ON THE TRANSLATION:

The smoothness of the rhyme and meter and the naturalness of the diction really help me to get lost in the story. "Integument" seems like an awfully high-register word, but I don't find it jarringly so; it helps that the high-register "adamant" in the preceding line has prepared us for it somewhat (and also that the surrounding language feels so effortless).

I'm loving the surprising stresses and pause of "keeping nearby, but out of harm's way – just" in the line before the snapping teeth. Since those final stresses are so dramatic, though, I think I'd prefer a return to straightforward meter in the next line, rather than "The dog's jaws make a futile snapping sound". Perhaps something like "The snapping teeth make such a futile sound". The jaunty spirit of the "happy hound" bit seems just right, even though it's a departure from the letter of the text.

[Mary McLean]

What a fun excerpt! The verse is very smooth, though I stumbled over L2 because I wanted to stress 'lie' rather than 'in'. It would read better to me substituting 'teeth' with 'gnashers', but that may be too slangy (and I dont know whether anapaests are being religiosly avoided).

[Brian Allgar]

When I first saw the new insect threads that have appeared, I thought that they were additional subjects, and hadn't realized that they were the first results of the selection process. I was going to say: "Good heavens! They're breeding like flies!"

[Martin Rocek]

Very impressive--it doesn't read like a translation, just fine poetry.
My dictionary says that this use of adamant is an archaism, but in context,
I don't mind it all.

In S2, L3 and L4 seem a bit of filler, but that is in the original.
I do have a problem with the last line: It means "If the fly
comes too close..." but it comes across as a generic warning addressed
perhaps to the reader: "Fly too close and.."

[Susan McLean]

I think it reads well, but like Julie I question "integument." That word really clangs in the context, and adamant, though known for its hardness, is not a very accurate substitute for jasper or chalcedony or agate. I would also question "likewise" in S2, because I think the meaning is more like "just as" but "likewise" suggests "in addition." "In the dust" seems to be misdirection when it is separated too far from "August." I admire the rhyming and the generally clear syntax.

Susan

[Seree Zohar]

Oh, I love ‘integument’ in the stanza describing the “high register” Ruggiero, winged horse, sea monster –it’s a perfect fit, and even funny, with the continuation of ‘likewise’ referencing the mastiff… Something goes technically skewy for me in S1L4, and also S2L3 – should there be a dash or comma at the end of the line? But I DO love that ‘just’ right there at the end of S2L6. Clever stuff here.

[Ann Drysdale]

I had already written my first sentence in my head before spotting that Seree had anticipated it. I, too, love "integument". It's just a little lift of the eyebrow, a grin, a bow to the inflated nature of the story being told, a springboard for the next stanza where the mighty hero is likened to a wholly familiar dog-botherer.

The only thing that looks wrong is "must". A reader without benefit of Italian or Julie's helpful notes would immediately jump on it as being rhyme-driven. But - curse Ariosto! - it's exactly right. I wonder if there's a tiny tweak that could be made at the point of "full of" to accentuate the meaning in the context?

Well, that's the only negative I can find. What a translation and - what a poem!

[Maryann Corbett]

At least half the battle for the translator is selecting "something worthy of translating," a phrase that translates often as "interesting to contemporary readers." If the translator likes to work with older literature, it also implies "not already translated a gazillion times in a way lots of readers know." This excerpt deserves to be praised as a great choice on all those counts.

I confirm all the good things people have said above. If I'd been given this as an assignment, the spot that would have had me tearing my hair would be

o nel mese dinanzi o nel seguace,
l'uno di spiche e l'altro pien di mosto:

What's hard about it is that even in the original, it throws in images that distract the reader from the main metaphorical action. My quibble with naming July and September, using parentheses, and using the little interpolated sentence "the other's full of must" is that all of those pull the reader away from the main action more abruptly than the original does. But for all my quibbling, I don't have a suggestion for anything better, and every direction I mentally explore does some violence to the letter of the poem.

Great choice, well executed.

Oh, and I like "integument" too. And "adamant" made me think of Milton's Lucifer in his adamantine chains and penal fire.

[Adam Elgar]

This is right up my street, and a brave attempt to achieve the impossible, so the translator has my full sympathy. I can see how "integument" would stick out and raise eyebrows, but I suppose it's the kind of thing Ariosto does when (as here) he hurtles between extremes of register. Nothing can match the effortless Mozartean dexterity of the original, alas.