“Snow” poem/ “The sound of silence” – Simon and Garfunkel

It’s not so easy to assign a univocal meaning to the snow. It’s impossible to trace back to a sole thought that vast pure white expanse tinting the countryside and  sometimes blocking the means of transportation, a thing arresting time, arresting one’s mind in its stream of consciousness.

Let’s learn to observe, to pause between the storm swirl and the whirlwind on the asphalt, among the pavements, underneath the humid tree leaves: we witness to this change powerless and unable of too many actions, aware of the umpteenth metamorphosis, of the umpteenth step towards a new shape of nature. It’s like a leap in the dark, all the noises get softer, floating on the surface. So that’s how somebody goes out to check their house way out, if there would still be any hope to avoid an unintentional house arrest! Somebody else has to sprinkle streets with salt and some more already start removing those sugar-cube-like white clods. On the other hand, children go out wearing a hood, scarf enveloped and with gauntlet in order to touch that white episode live from the sky..red nose and gay smile, while their mothers stay in to consult weather forecast to know as soon as possible when the snow will have decided to keep them company. Weak lights from streetlamps light up the white flakes seeming to march like little soldiers, one after one. I squat in front of the heater, glance outside and take some candies out of the oven: snow justifies me, forces me to have a break from my books, from my different engagements. On the contrary, my mother (obviously only when the white-storm is over) celebrates the snowfall taking photos here and there, some subjects in particular…this time was the beauty courtyard allspice turn I decided to quote below, with his murky branches contrasting the yellow flowers and white flakes. Somebody considers the snow as a seal for sounds and daily noises, as a “truce” or a quite mortal silence; somebody else compares the snow to the best clothes ever for the landscape. For example, in his poem “Nevicata” (snowfall), Carducci sees the snow as a symbol of death easing sounds so that they seem whispers from another world (“Slow falls the snow from the ashen sky: shouts/ life sounds no more coming to town,/ neither greengrocer screams nor wagon noises/ no love gay young song…) while the poet R.M.Rilke says: “I usually think: and I see (or dream)/ a small village, a great stillness:/inside it, a group of roosters cocking./ And the small village mislays in a fall of snow. / I enter the village, I wear my best clothes/ I run into a white cottage”.

…and I feel like I have to wrtite something too, even thug in a very humble way, maybe looking outside, watching the slow flakes falling…

In silence falls the snow

while I continue on my cold path.

The night envelops in the candid care

its tender bitterness,

sealing the red core of the gentle sunset.

Wild Scots pines,

shining dew among

berries and allspices.

Beauty is the snow,

with its white flames marriage!

Immaculate blue-sky-flashed blood

Earth, weeping and

borderlines flavour,

sound of silence.

The grandma and the child

enveloped in the shawl,

red is their heart itself;

I continue in the

cold snow-flowers made path,

wonderful poetry scenery.


Cade in silenzio la neve

mentre proseguo il freddo

sentiero. La sera


nel volto bianco

la sua tenera amarezza,

sigillando il cuore


del tenue tramonto.

Selvaggi pini


rugiada lucente

tra bacche e


Bella la neve

con il suo

matrimonio di

candide fiamme!

Sangue immacolato

dal bagliore celeste.

Odor di terra,

di pianto e

di confini,

suono di silenzio.

La nonna e il bimbo

avvolti nello scialle,


è il loro stesso

caldo cuore;

proseguo nel freddo

sentiero di fiori

di neve, prodigioso


di poesia.

The sound of silence, that is the snow peculiarity.


…what could I propose you if not “the sound of silence” by the duo Simon & Garfunkel? We need to remember that the aim this song was composed for was completely different, i.e. to commemorate the death of the US President John Kennedy, occurred in 1963.

So, I live you this way, listening to the piano performed version, the one you could work out by yourself (maybe waiting for the next snowfalls next winter) downloading the score posted below!



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