Tré ffile
(from La Cajola d’Ore)
Ce šta nu file chiare all’oridzónne
ma ’ccućì cchiare e lende, stammatine,
’ccućì bianghe ca pare se cunfónne
cele e mundagne, senza cchiù ccunfine.
Nu file de recorde, assópre a quelle,
se sturcine e s’areturcine, strétte
ana feneštra aperte, an’ora bbelle
de chi sa quande, ch’arenasce mbette.
Nu tétte an’atru tétte e an’atre štenne
nu fume lende che ss’unisce e pije
la vije de lu cele; e va tremenne
pecché è nu file de malincunije.
Three Threads
(from Cajola d’Ore [The Golden Cage])
There is a clear thread on the horizon
but so clear and slow, this morning
so white that the sky and mountains
seem to blend together, without boundaries.
A thread of memory, above that,
unwinds and rewinds, tied
to an open window, to a beautiful hour
of who knows when, that is reborn in the chest.
One roof to another roof and to another stretches
a slow smoke that unites and takes
the path to the sky; and it trembles
because it is a thread of melancholy.
Nu Spròvele de Nève
(Da La ’ddòre de la nève)
Nu spròvele de nève, che gné qquande
se vulé fà assendì t’à resbejate
a notta fónne (e tu gné ana chiamate
si’ ite a guardà ’rrete ala persiane),
vé a dàrete lu salute: è mmarze,
già té spuppà le piande – te vò dice –
e le sacce ca tuttanome penze
sole ca è pprimavére.
Ma tu, almene tu me sò penzate
ca me vulive dice addije, addije
pe na lùtema vote…
Nu spròvele de nève, c’à durate
sćì e nò mèdz’ore. I’, mbacce alu vétre,
lu core a pizze le sò vište a ìrsene.
A Dusting of Snow
(from La ’ddòre de la Nève [The Scent of the Snow])
A dusting of snow, which as if when
it wanted to make itself heard
woke you up in the dead of night
(and you, as if to a call,
went to look from behind the shutter),
It comes to greet you: it’s March,
the plants are already sprouting- it wants to tell you-
and I know everyone thinks
only that it is spring:
but you, at least I thought to myself
you wanted to say farewell, farewell
for one last time…
A dusting of snow, which lasted
for half an hour.
I, my face on the glass, watched
it go away with a broken heart.
* Translations by Cav. Charles Sant’Elia
