*
O hushed October morning mild, Thy leaves
haves ripened to the fall;
To-morrow's wind, if it be wild, Should waste
Them All.
The crows above the forest call;
To-morrow they may form and go.
O hushed October morning mild,
Begin the hours of this day slow,
Make the day seem to us less brief.
Hearts not averse to being beguiled,
Beguile us in the way you know;
Release one leaf at break of day;
Release one leaf at break of day;
At noon release another leaf;
One from our trees, one far away;
Retard the sun with gentle mist;
Enchant the land with amethyst.
Slow, slow! For the grapes' sake, If They Were All,
Already Whose leaves are burnt with frost,
Whose clustered fruit must else be lost -
For the grapes' sake along the wall.
*
O gentle and quiet morning of October,
your leaves are ready to fall;
The wind tomorrow, if storm is, how many
All the scatter.
Crows will draw over forest;
Maybe tomorrow they will leave the alarm.
O gentle and quiet morning of October,
Start slow hours of that day,
Fa 'the day we are less quick.
Our hearts are not adverse to the illusion,
Illudili as you already know.
Detach a leaf when the day is full of anxiety;
unplug another in the south;
One of our branches, a more distant.
slows the sun with gentle mist;
Enchant fields of amethyst. But
slow. Slowly!
If only for the good of the vineyard
from the leaves already marked by the cold, I
which clusters will be lost in another way -
For the sake of those grapes along the wall.
your leaves are ready to fall;
The wind tomorrow, if storm is, how many
All the scatter.
Crows will draw over forest;
Maybe tomorrow they will leave the alarm.
O gentle and quiet morning of October,
Start slow hours of that day,
Fa 'the day we are less quick.
Our hearts are not adverse to the illusion,
Illudili as you already know.
Detach a leaf when the day is full of anxiety;
unplug another in the south;
One of our branches, a more distant.
slows the sun with gentle mist;
Enchant fields of amethyst. But
slow. Slowly!
If only for the good of the vineyard
from the leaves already marked by the cold, I
which clusters will be lost in another way -
For the sake of those grapes along the wall.
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa (trans. by Maurizio Marotta)
October by Robert Frost is an invocation to nature. An invitation to be kind to autumn with its fruits, to life to be benign. The same intention, slow down time, had the prayer we speak softly when we learned of the disease Jasmine D'Ambrosio, graphic Salerno known and highly appreciated the intra-and extra moenia. That October, and his evil have been faster and more ferocious. Jasmine passed away November 6, 2006. This plaquette is dedicated to him, his eyes gentle and travels to imprint the date of the first anniversary of his death.
I used movable type Bodoni for text: the bodies 14 and 24 round clear italics in the title, size 12 clear round for poetry; body 10 clear round in the colophon. The images are printed from woodcuts. The simple thread that ties together the sheets were tied by Margaret.
October is the first title in a series devoted entirely to wood engraving and printing of arrays in the plan.
with a wooden
October
A poem by Robert Frost translated by Maurizio Bevilacqua Gaetano Marotta with woodcuts drawn up a press card Amatruda Amalfi (for text and engraving) Hahnemühle and (to cover). Book format: mm.185x130. Measures engraving: mm. 109x77.
Circulation: 30 copies bound by hand. Salerno, November 6, 2007.
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