The Art of Crafting Poetry: Style

A continuation of the series.

The Art of Crafting Poetry-Style, by Steven C.Ihde

What style of poetry do you want to craft? Shall you reach towards unchartered rhythms, draw from period platforms, use the meter and rhyme of ancient texts, seek sustenance in sixteenth century sonnets, or imitate Giacomo Leopardi, the accomplished 19th century Italian poet. I provide two contrasting translations of his highly regarded L’Infinito

Sempre caro mi fu quest'ermo colle, Ever dear to me was this hermit hill,

E questa siepe, che da tanta parte And this hedge, which from so large a part

Dell'ultimo orizzonte il guardo esclude. Of the ultimate horizon does sight exclude

Ma sedendo e rimirando, interminati But sitting and gazing, unended

Spazi di là da quella, e sovrumani Spaces beyond that, and superhuman

Silenzi, e profondissima quiete Silences, and profoundest quietude

Io nel pensier mi fingo, ove per poco I in my thought do fiction; where almost

Il cor non si spaura. E come il vento The heart overfills with fear. And as the wind

Odo stormir tra queste piante, io quello Does rustle through these plants, I that

Infinito silenzio a questa voce Infinite silence to this voice

Vo comparando: e mi sovvien l’eterno, Go comparing: and occurs to me th'eternal,

E le morte stagioni, e la presente And the dead seasons; and the one present

E viva, e il suon di lei. Così tra questa And alive, and the sound of her. So through this

Immensità s'annega il pensier mio: Immensity drowns the thought of mine

E il naufragar m'è dolce in questo mare. And the shipwreck to me is sweet in this main

THE INFINITE

Always to me beloved was this lonely hillside 13

And the hedgerow creeping over and always hiding 13

The distances, the horizon's furthest reaches. 12

But as I sit and gaze, there is an endless 11

Space still beyond, there is a more than mortal 11

Silence spread out to the last depth of peace, 10

Which in my thought I shape until my heart 10

Scarcely can hide a fear. And as the wind 11

Comes through the copses sighing to my ears, 10

The infinite silence and the passing voice 11

I must compare: remembering the seasons, 11

Quiet in dead eternity, and the present, 12

Living and sounding still. And into this 10

Immensity my thought sinks ever drowning, 11

And it is sweet to shipwreck in such a sea. 11

Consider what each translator has done. There is no rhyme in the English, so the reader must experiment to determine the scansion, whereas in Italian the rhythm and meter are very evident. I recommend you go to this site to hear it in the original language. You will see the poem with different eyes. This is a youtube video. Click on the L’infinoto (Giacomo Leopardi) voce: Vittoria Gassman image to watch.

https://www.italyheritage.com/learn-italian/literature/leopardi-l-infinito.htm

Each translation continues a line into the next, then stops mid line, then continues until a semi pause, the colon, which tells us he has changed emphasis, until he again stops mid line so he can break into his conclusion, that he is content. I have noted the foot length, in English, of each line. It is evident this creates a misunderstanding of what the poet accomplishes in his own language. If scanned in Italian, each verse exhibits the following foot length:

6/6/7

7/6/6

7/6/7

6.5/6.5/6.5

6.5/6.5/6.5

English language scansion creates difficulties. This is why I recommend listening to the reading. Only when heard do we sense the true flow.

From this one example it is evident that translation significantly effects rhythm, meter, rhyme, and even the sense. O, what a dilemma is faced. Shall we rejoice that we can read the translation, or sob because we miss the poet’s beauty in that reading?

John Keats read French, Latin, and some Italian. Ezra Pound knew Latin, Greek, French, Italian, German, Spanish, Proven?al, and Anglo-Saxon, as well as English. Maya Angelou was fluent in six languages: English, French, Spanish, Italian, Arabic and West African Fanti. I am a pauper with but English and German, and some understanding of Spanish, French, and Italian.

I am not arguing for language fluency, yet do want to make clear that for the poet to understand and draw from previous poets of many languages, learning that original language will enrich greatly the appreciation and scope of what was written. Having such treasures will serve to benefit our own writing.

So, what does this mean for style? As stated in the first article of this series, there are more than 100 styles. (Ron Padgett, editor, The Teacher’s and Writer’s Handbook of Poetic Forms). I suggest a study of styles, seeking discovery of those that challenge your creativity, and also honing the style most suitable to your verse. Also, play with the styles. Set them on their heads, reverse the meter, the foot length. Consider how each line you write should be read. Read aloud. Read each poem you write so often that you learn and always return to the same rhythms. Then, search how to break the lines. Consider the reading I cited earlier. Even if you do not understand Italian, you can still see how the reader separated and combined the lines, and how this changes the perception, the emphasis, and the internal meaning.

Next to consider is how content will affect each line and verse, or stanza. Shall your language be clipped, using single or dual syllables to the general exclusion of multisyllabic words? Shall you mix your syllable lengths? Where will you place punctuation, or not place it ? Shall you capitalize or continue in lower case? Will you vary the line foot length? Will you rhyme internally or at the end of lines, or not at all? Where will you limit each stanza, and what will be the measure used to determine that aspect? Will each poem follow a formula that gives you comfort, or break molds? I suggest writing out questions you should raise, and asking yourself each when editing.