DOI Kapitel:
Chapter IX: Amalfi
DOI Seite / Zitierlink:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.59000#0350
Amalfi
were, a changeless strangeness in the majestic rocks
to which time has given the forms of ruined fortresses
of still invincible strength, or the primitive human
outline of monk or prophetess with outstretched hand
half escaping from the stone, like the imprisoned souls
of Rodin. A mere thread breaks the descent from
the heights to the sea, and along that thread of white
road horses and carriages race past with jingling of
bells and lashing of whips, while over the edge of
childishly protective wall we gaze down into the clear-
ness of the water where
“ The wind on the warm sea dozes.”
Half-way between Sorrento and Positano are seen
through the aloes and olive groves the Isles of the
Sirens. Tiny and wave-swept as they are, there they
lie unchanged, as far as we can tell, since the days of
antiquity, and the name of the “ Fascinators of men ”
has clung to the little archipelago of islets, the longest
of which measures only a quarter of a mile in length.
Why the name of the “ Galli ” is now used nobody
seems very sure ; nor why beings so harmful as the
sirens should ever have had their image converted a
century or two ago into amulets. “ Selonc la verite
les Sireines furent in. meretrix qui decevorent tous
les trespassares et les metrient en pourete,” and only
the wily Ulysses escaped from their death song. Why
then did Dante write
“ Io volse Ulisse del suo camino vago
Al canto mio ” ?
i63
were, a changeless strangeness in the majestic rocks
to which time has given the forms of ruined fortresses
of still invincible strength, or the primitive human
outline of monk or prophetess with outstretched hand
half escaping from the stone, like the imprisoned souls
of Rodin. A mere thread breaks the descent from
the heights to the sea, and along that thread of white
road horses and carriages race past with jingling of
bells and lashing of whips, while over the edge of
childishly protective wall we gaze down into the clear-
ness of the water where
“ The wind on the warm sea dozes.”
Half-way between Sorrento and Positano are seen
through the aloes and olive groves the Isles of the
Sirens. Tiny and wave-swept as they are, there they
lie unchanged, as far as we can tell, since the days of
antiquity, and the name of the “ Fascinators of men ”
has clung to the little archipelago of islets, the longest
of which measures only a quarter of a mile in length.
Why the name of the “ Galli ” is now used nobody
seems very sure ; nor why beings so harmful as the
sirens should ever have had their image converted a
century or two ago into amulets. “ Selonc la verite
les Sireines furent in. meretrix qui decevorent tous
les trespassares et les metrient en pourete,” and only
the wily Ulysses escaped from their death song. Why
then did Dante write
“ Io volse Ulisse del suo camino vago
Al canto mio ” ?
i63