Arbor
Scene IV from The Shaman, Heretical Story of Francis of Assisi
The scene takes place in the woods, the natural stage of the shamanic rite. A wolf lives here, dark and threatening, like a riddle or an enigma that demands to be solved.
Francis of Assisi addresses his companions and asks them to praise the wolf, not to tame it, but to become its friends. Shadow is not fought, it is integrated.
Among the trees, living columns of a pagan cathedral, a Gregorian chant resounds, answering like an echo to the shaman’s invocations. Then everything is transformed into a Dionysian dance, in which nothing is separate anymore: language becomes metaphor, identity dissolves into nature.
Percussion, folk instruments, ancient and modern, intertwine with the resonances of the tanpura, a call from the East, and with the song of crickets, recorded in the Lower Square of Saint Francis in Assisi. The clarinet and the chant move between light and shadow, like the saint’s secret face.
This piece is the fourth scene from The Shaman: A Heretical Story of Francis of Assisi, a poetic and musical work that tells the life of the (not yet) saint as an initiatory journey between the worlds of the visible and the invisible.
Lyrics
Here is a possible English translation of the text for this piece. It is as faithful as possible; however, the full semantic nuances and layers of meaning in a poetic text like this cannot be fully rendered in translation. The complete text will be available in Italian in the book + CD Lo Sciamano. Storia eretica di Francesco d’Assisi, to be released later in 2026.
«They will carve naked bodies
as in the time of Rome
sublime,
giants, triumphs of fountains,
the atrocious marble will become flesh
arteryforcehand
pulsing measure of dark grace.
Light shall be this man and woman
divine
of splendid noonday sun.
But I see in my mortal time raised
griffins, dragons and fierce hyenas.
And a wolf.
Black with ferocity, muscles taut for war
claws of blood disordered snarling and terror.
Lauds of stone raised to the horrid wolf, severe lauds.
Wolf, brother wolf,
stay among the friendly trees,
in the wood of struck bells,
you hear the garbino and the song
of austere Venus and of Mars
far away
who sleeps among loves.
Arcana scattered in the sirocco wind,
in the hidden order of chance,
infinite dice drawn into play
that in my wretched mortal time
I cannot hear clear voices,
nor follow with my eyes the gentle arabesque of little bells.
But your chorus, sister leaves, is sharp as a blade.
Oak mother,
living athanor,
your branches roots in the sky.
For you the dark water blooms into yellow fire,
for you the earth is changed into shining breath,
parchment for dances of starlings and falcons.
Imperceptible paths fly and alight
on your nests the wild augurs,
sated with the celestial embroidery of tapestries.
To count leaves the secrets like numerous lights in the sky at night,
and to find in the clear sap the green map of stars.
Lauds raised with art: the time of the wolf will end
and still forms of stone will hold up the mind.»
Credits
Voice of Francis of Assisi: Alessandro Ciacci.
Clarinet, gralla, and ocarina: Alessio Zanovello.
Sopranos: Paola Comerio and Chiara Scotti.
Tenor: Mario Giaccoboni.
Tanpura: Mauro Bove.
Lute and theorbo: Luciano Bernardi.
Synthesizers, harpsichord, and percussion: Carlo Matti.
Field recordings (crickets) by Carlo Matti at the Lower Square of Saint Francis in Assisi.
Production, mixing, and mastering: Carlo Matti.