Giovanni Pascoli

Name: Paulo Ucello — Chapter 3
Author: Giovanni Pascoli

Biographical details

Giovanni Pascoli (1855-1912) published works such as Paulo Ucello — Chapter 9, Paulo Ucello — Chapter 8 and Paulo Ucello — Chapter 7. These writings evoke seek'st a grain, Paulo and snail.

Quotes by Giovanni Pascoli

Giovanni Pascoli, Paulo Ucello — Chapter 4 (1915)

“ Soft strains of viol and lute rose through the air:
From balconies was born the lingering fragrance
Of marjoram and thyme, while all along
The golden broom lined the street with radiance.
Round Brunelleschi’s spire a chattering throng
Of sparrows through each buttressed archway whirred;
Below young lads and maidens raised a song.
Around thee, Santa Maria del Fiore, stirr’d
Such living freshness, such a fragrant spell,
Paulo forgot St. Francis and his word,
And, tempted, in his heart to murmuring fell. ”

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Source: Wikisource

Giovanni Pascoli, Paulo Ucello — Chapter 1 (1915)

“ PAULO di Dono, early home that day.
Left half-unpeeled a bunch of endive stalk,
That he might paint upon his wall straightway
A little finch seen on his morning’s walk.
When, with Donato, on the market street,
And Ser Filippo he had stayed in talk.
His friends bought eggs. He spied, beneath a seat,
A bullfinch caged: its breast a russet red
And black the habit falling to its feet:
Black too the cowl upon its dainty head.
Though passing poor, yet Paulo would have spent
To buy the bird the cost of that day’s bread. ”

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Source: Wikisource

Giovanni Pascoli, Paulo Ucello — Chapter 7 (1915)

“ How the Saint understood that Paulo deemed his to be but a small desire, yet shewed him how great a one it was in deed.
HIS nearing form grew slowly, till he staid
His steps by Paulo’s side; then, grave and tender,
Upon his heart a gentle hand he laid.
Nought could he feel there save the quivering stir
Of beating wings. Again St. Francis spake:
‘Oh, brother Paulo, God’s own pensioner,
Little it is to thee that thou shouldst take
From these their freedom; yet how great the wrong
To the winged bird who of his tears must make
Thy pastime. ”

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Source: Wikisource

Giovanni Pascoli, Paulo Ucello — Chapter 6 (1915)

“ Barefoot he was, and clad in homely frieze.
‘Oh, naughty Paulo, brother mine,’ he cried,
While yet afar: ‘doth it no longer please
Thee, foolish one, to eat the crust of bread
By mountain springs, in Poverty’s own fold,
Who dwells on high, by God companioned? ”

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Source: Wikisource

Giovanni Pascoli, Paulo Ucello — Chapter 10 (1915)

“ Then, trilling high, she told the winds her love.
Then she bewailed him to the moon, that shone
Gleaming on stones, shimmering on grasses deep,
And, in the dusky room, lit soft upon
The white-haired painter, fallen into sleep. ”

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Source: Wikisource

Giovanni Pascoli, Paulo Ucello — Chapter 8 (1915)

“ Then, on the unbent grass of the incline,
He passed, with these last words of tender care:
‘Like to a bird thou art, sweet brother mine,
Blinded by cruel men. With sightless gaze
Thou seek’st a grain, and the full ear is thine ”

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Source: Wikisource

Giovanni Pascoli, Paulo Ucello — Chapter 2 (1915)

“ Or with red clusters of the vine aglow,
Or black with new-turned earth beneath the plough.
Willows, beside the stream, were winding slow;
Long cypresses climbed up the rocky steep:
Here idle lay a scythe, and there a hoe. ”

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Source: Wikisource

Giovanni Pascoli, Paulo Ucello — Chapter 5 (1915)

“ Most like the snail that daubs the wall and goes
Bearing its worthless all upon its back.
I want no farm such as Donato owes
At Cafaggiolo, but a strip of ground,
Where crab-apple, or pear, or fig-tree grows.
For even a head of garlic, I’ll be bound,
Is joy to him who toiled to make it grow. ”

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Source: Wikisource

Giovanni Pascoli, Paulo Ucello — Chapter 9 (1915)

“ How the Saint made Paulo aware that the birds he had painted were themselves real and living, and that they alone might be his.
AND as he went, on either hand he strewed
Crumbs fallen, holy angels! from your board. ”

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Source: Wikisource

Giovanni Pascoli, Paulo Ucello — Chapter 3 (1915)

“ AND birds there were: birds, birds on every hand,
That the good man had seen, and loved, and could
Not buy: on bough and blade, on stream and land:
With tuft, with necklet and with crested hood,
From the wide ocean or from mountain height,
Dwellers in hill and valley, brake and wood ”

Giovanni Pascoli

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