5 NOVEMBER 1887, Page 21

ITALIAN POPULAR POETRY.* " FOLIZ-SONGS," says Miss Busk, "are the

intimate expressions of the ideas of the people." It is an amiable platitude, this, and venerable from its antiquity, originally propounded, perhaps, in that comparatively remote period when Adam devoted himself to agricultural pursuits and made no pretensions to gentility, and frequently repeated in the plagiaristic literature of the post- diluvian period. " Make the laws who will, if you let me make the songs," said an old Scots gentleman,—and thought, no

• The Polk-Songs of Italy. By Miss R. H. Busk. London Seen Sonnenschein, Lowrey, and Co.

doubt, honest man, that he had hit on a now idea. Similar remarks have been made from time to time by various historical personages, to the effect that the life or the soul of a peoes was found in its popular poetry ; and we do not hesitate to endorse Miss Busk's remark, even though we object to the word "folk- songs," which has an outlandish, Anglo-Saxon kind of ring, and reminds one of Mr. Freeman. As for their containing the "highest aspirations," "the storehouse of all we care most to

know about them," that is another question. This entirely depends on who " we " are; it most be referred, like many other matters of deep import, to the law that "ipso is he." Now, we are not sure that we are ipso in this case ; we cannot tell whether " we " may denote Miss Busk and ourselves, or Miss Busk and the intelligent public, or Miss Busk and the blockhead of a public.

Let no, however, for the moment assume that we have the privilege of being included with our author in the sweet fellow- ship of one small pronoun. In that case, we are by no means certain that Mies Busk's collection tells us all we wish to know about the Italian people. There are, of course, many different types of the Italian which wo recognise, and many different ways of looking at him. There is the Italian regarded merely as the curator of a vast museum of antiquities kept up chiefly for the benefit of American artists. There is the practical, enterprising Italian with a tarn for mechanics, who does not curse the day on which he was born because it was not in the fourteenth century, but is glad to live in a free and united Italy. This latter we hold to be the genuine national type, but Miss Busk no doubt would regard him as an instance of the " more artificial spirit " which is " quenching the art and the voice of Italy." There is, again, the patient cultivator of the country districts,

in whom Miss Busk taketh chief delight, and whose feelings and habits of thought are well enough expressed in the ballads and serenades and stornelli which that lady has so industriously collected. Yet even of the Italian peasant as be is at the present time, we perhaps gather a truer idea from such native productions as Signor Fucini's Yeglie di Weri. May it not be the case that that " artificial spirit" of which our author com-

plains is, in fact, the real national tendency which increased prosperity gives the people a chance of following ? Of a verity, it has long been patent to travellers that the picturesque gentle. man who seems to have no possible occupation except to lie in the sun or to form a suitable foreground to some charming relic of media:7a barbarism, is quite as keenly alive to the advantages of turning a dishonest twopence as any product of the highest and most corrupt civilisation. Let us, therefore, not grudge the upright peasant, who would cheat no one except in the way of fair trading, his application to the chase of the honest penny, even if it results therefrom that "songsters of every degree, from the prima donna to the peasant, are becoming daily more rare."

It is an excellent collection, however, that Miss Busk presents to us, with good store of the best examples from each part of Italy. Among the most interesting is, no doubt, the collection of Sicilian popular poetry, in the selection of which our author has been assisted by a distinguished Sicilian scholar. This gentleman (Dr. Pitre, of Palermo), while he pays a cordial tribute to the energy and research with which Miss Busk has pursued her task (" certamente," he says," l'impresa non poteva affidarsi a mani migliori "), finds fault with the limited number of examples given, saying that in Sicily alone seven thousand songs might have been collected. Here, however, we must take the side of Miss Busk; she might, it is true, with great additional labour, have produced a much more complete collection, which Could have taken its place in great public libraries and on the shelves of enthusiastic amateurs as an established book of reference ; but we think she has done wisely in choosing rather to produce a smaller selection in a form in which it has more chance of reaching the general public. Besides the Sicilian songs, we have an excellent collection of Tuscan stornelli, and of popular songs and rhymes from all quarters, even from the distant regions where Victor Hugo heard the brown mariner singing Talmo and Virgil, and where he also seems to have songs of his own to sing when the spirit moves him. Each separate part is preceded by a short introduction, pointing out the particular characteristics of the poetry of the different districts, and explaining the meaning of the strainhotti, Ode, ciuri, Some errors and omissions there may be, no doubt; the Venetian collection is not perhaps as complete as it might have been, and the notice of modern poetry might have contained

some mention of the delightful little poems of Signor Sarfatti; but, on the whole, the work has been carefully and thoroughly done.

But—how often will it be necessary to impress upon enthusiastic editors of collections like this that it is so much better to leave us to appreciate the songs for ourselves in the original, and not attempt the hopeless task of translating them into English verse ? There are perhaps twenty persons in a generation to whom the gift of translation is given, if so many; but very rarely one who could give any idea in his own language of the national songs of another people. It has before now been our melancholy duty to point oat the failures of persons, in other ways most deserving, who have made dreadful examples of themselves by their futile endeavours to accomplish so impossible a feat. So it is, however, that wisdom crieth in the streets, and no man regardeth it. Otherwise, the fear of something after publication might have given Miss Busk pause, and induced her to refrain from attempting what she is pleased to call a " rimed vocabulary." Now, we had been minded, in the first place, to pass over this strange verb "to rime," of which Miss Bask is remarkably fond, with little comment, holding orthography to be merely a pedantic affectation of the nineteenth century,—though, indeed, the disregard of conventionalities in spelling, as in other matters, is not necessarily meritorious. Bat it has been borne in upon us that there may be some mystic meaning attached to this word of which we are ignorant. It is evident to the merest casual observer of some of Miss Busk's translations, that they rhyme not, neither do they scan. Yet the last words of the lines have, as our author explains, a kind of mystic " assonance " which the ordinary reader will perceive with difficulty. Let us take as an example the following remarkable stanza :—

" Not if he gave me a barque and a bull, And hair by hair a whole piece of cloth ; Not if he gave me a thousand gold ecndi, The Zecca, the Arsenal, and the Bucentanr."

Here Miss Busk admits that the words "have not rimed," but she asserts that they "have happened to make just the sort of assonance which is common to the songs,—bu' with scu', and do' with Bucentau'." Now, it may be that we were not born under a riming planet; but we assert, and we are ready to main- tain as an article of faith, that " toro " rhymes with " oro," and both of them with " Bacintoro," much better than " bull " does with "scndi." Sometimes the principle is carried further by cutting off the ends of the English words altogether, thus :- "E fa me Is lilolela "And give me the li lo Is la, Co 'sto pi6 no toco term" With this foot I just touch the ea' ;" —that is, the earth, as explained in a note. Or, again :- " My mind to say 'Our Father' is not free, Nor e'en so much as half a ' Hail Mary,' Not the first opening letter of the Cree' ;" —nor the last, apparently. In other cases, the English words are mutilated almost beyond recognition for the sake of condensa- tion. Here is a very fine example a- " Mf voglio ander far frate alla " I'll go and be a Friar at la Scala, Scala And make myself confessor to E confessors della mia belle. my Bella, E non la voglio assolver se non Nor till she 'green t' love me mi arna." 'II I absolve her."

To this gem are appended several notes of various kinds a—(1), Topographical,—La Scala is "the popular Carmelite Church in Trastevere ;" (2), aesthetic and instructive,—" It is the impossi- bility of the situation that makes the hyperbolic charm of this little song ;" and (3), apologetic,—" Bella,' of course, here stands for 'my fair,' but it seemed allowable to translate it by the name of Bella ;" marry, it seemeth not so to us.

In another instance, Miss Busk has been apparently guided by a sense of the fitness of things. The stranger is delighted with the musical patois he hears on the lagoons of Venice ; why should not some similar charm attach to the frequently defective English of the Thames Valley P Yet our translator naturally feels that, were she to translate the lightsome fancies of the gay gondolier into the every-day language of the blaspheming bargee, the result might be picturesque, but would hardly be edifying. A compromise can, however, be made by such methods as the dropping of an occasional "h," where an initial letter is dropped in the original Venetian, as thus :— " Beta leilassina, traditora Beta "Betty, who 'ast stabbed my Vogio ziogarte un di ails heart, most traierous Betty !

zechineta— Some day I'll play thee at the E as to perdo vogio consegnarte zeochinetty;

E as to venue vogio via batarte." And if I lose, that stake I'll

gladly pay ; And if I win, I'll throw thee tight away." Many other fine specimens might be quoted, abounding in many beauties of various kinds, with pilgrims who are entreated to- " Say a little prayer far me ; A little praying to your dear saint, That he may send a good hubby,"

kings' sons who meet shepherdesses "in a hedge-shade halcyon," maids who " withdraw beneath the wave," and other marvels of Nature ; but we will content ourselves with giving one particu- larly fine example, this time from the Sicilian collection. We give the original with the translation, as Miss Busk remarks that her "English version by itself would give very little idea of the power of the original," an observation with which we cordially agree

"0 God ! And you, friends, tell, which way to turn.

A love I have, yet can't obtain a kiss.

Distraction makes my brain with fire barn ; No way I find to %lain unto my bliss.

Her father and his son a pact have sworn Arm'd watch to keep—to my increased distress.

Thus, hat to bear her off, nought discern.

Let arms clash arms, and one or other dies."

On the first two words of this song there is a delicious note :— " This exclamation is probably the outcome of the simple faith of the Sicilians." For our own part, we should say that this remark shows about as much comprehension of the Sicilians, or any one else, as Pistol's conjecture that "O Signieur Dew should be a gentleman." It was but the other day that we heard a French lady, as she contemplated a bad hand at whist, repeating to herself in accents of despair," Seigneur! Seigneur !" But we never took it for an expression of simple piety ; we rather attributed it to vexation. So it is that the best impulses of our nature are misrepresented by the cynical spectator.

"0 Din, figghioli, chi rimedin pigghiu!

'Ne piecinttedda la vurria vasari; E 'nutili ; la testa mi seavig- ghin 'Na bona forma nun la pozzn asciari !

Ce' 6 aJ patrozzu 'nsemmula sd figghin

Ca l'armi ea', e mi vonnu pustiari.

'Nfiui di facci e facci coi In pigghiu!

Armi en armi, e po' en' cadi, eadi !"