Abbiento
A casa
M’arravoglio
Int’’e lenzole antiche.
Vulesse parlà
C’’o nonno mio,
Ma nun avimm’’a dícere
Parole-
Avástano l’uocchie suoje
Pe me cunzulà.
Peace
At home
I wrap myself
In old sheets.
I would like to speak
With my grandfather,
But we don’t have to say
Words-
His eyes are enough
To console me.
Tu Ire
Tu ire sempe ‘a guagliona
Cu ‘a bicicletta,
P’’e scesulelle, p’’e vicarielle,
Na gavina ‘a na terra luntana,
Na frezza janculella
Mmiez’’o core d’’o quartiere,
Ma sempe na furastera,
Nu ncantésemo lieggio
Comm’a l’aria ,
‘E passaggio,
Na vutata d’uocchie
‘E dint’’a cuscienza,
‘A vita ‘e mmiez’’a cenisa
‘E n’ajere ca campammo
Tutt’’e ghiuorne.
You were
You were always the girl
With the bicycle,
Down the little slopes, through the little alleys, A seagull from a distant land,
A white arrow
In the heart of the neighbourhood,
But always a foreigner,
A spell light
As the air,
Transitory,
A blink of an eye
From inside the conscience,
Life amid the ashes
Of a yesterday that we are living
Every day.
Comme
Comme me pozzo scurdà
‘E te,
Funtanella ‘e chiazza,
Úrdema stella
D’’a mezanotte,
Ogne speranza nzista mia.
How
How could I forget
About you,
Little fountain in the square,
Last midnight
Star,
Every stubborn hope of mine.
* Self-published in 2010, Meridiunalata/Southernade is a treasury of poems gleaned from Cav. Sant'Elia's previous collections (Nchiuso dint''o presente, 'A cuntrora, and 'O pino e l'éllera), which were circulated among friends in New York City and Naples. Special thanks to Cav. Sant'Elia for allowing us to reprint his poetry and translations.
