Dialect Poetry of Southern Italy (Italian Poetry in Translation Book 2)
Chi le sàpete. Certe si mpauràine di si scrijè tuccànnese cc’u fiète; i’èrene une cchi ll’ate ‘a mbulla di sapone culurète, e mb ...
escono torrenti / di cenere e che i pazzi / se gridano troppo / li chiudono per sempre dove nessuno / vi entrerebbe mai. // Ora ...
Who knows. No doubt they were afraid to disappear should their breaths touch; they were a colored soap bubble to each other, and ...
Nd’ ‘a gente ca rirìte Nd’ ‘a gente ca rirìte quanne ti ni scrijàste i’ére ammuccète com’u fihicèlle di pàgghie nda na rote attu ...
da Un pianto nascosto, 1986 Fra la gente che rideva ─ Fra la gente che rideva, / il giorno che sparisti / ero nascosto come il f ...
Among People Laughing Among people laughing, the day you disappeared, I was hiding like a blade of straw in the twisted wheel of ...
roaring. (Tanslated by Luigi Bonaffini) ...
U mort a Ernesto de Martino Apprime, a lu paise, si cièrete nu mort, ll’accumpagnàite ‘a banda e Dumìniche u Cumme cch’i rastre1 ...
ca vène fóre, ‘a notte, quanne chiòvete e ca scìppene, com’a piscunète, da u sonne, chille pòure signure. Il funerale ─ Prima, a ...
The Funeral to Ernesto de Martino Before, if there was a funeral in town, the band would follow, and so did with his rakes Domen ...
they make the sound that country wagons make, when they come out at night, in the light rain, and like pelted stones violently w ...
(cont.d) E quanne su’ nd’u strìttue d’u Barone, le gìrene u taùte chiène chiène; su’ cchiù vicine ancore chille grire scattète n ...
mmischète com’a ghiòmmere di pice a pulle senza pére e senza scille. Pó come nd’i muntagne ti rispònnene tante voce si ièttese n ...
(cont.d) And when they reach the Baron’s alleyway, they’re forced to turn the casket very slowly; closer than ever are those pie ...
with birds stripped bare of any wings or feet. Then, as between two mountains, myriad voices answer if you let out a cry, the to ...
(cont.d) ti pàrete ca u tuocche d’’a campene i’è martelle di forge nd’i iaramme lle nfuète nda ll’arie tante spìrite ca si iùnne ...
(cont.d) of churchbells seems a forger’s hammer amidst the sparks of fire, and everywhere the blackness of ravines appears to sl ...
Quanne? E cuntente m’ aiute e nun mi stanche di sciabbuè cch’ i dìcete, nda ll’ arie, a tarantelle. I mène, ll’hène ‘a forze di ...
c’assincirè lle uèrete nd’u zanghe u nivre di na cruce. Quanne, quanne m’i uése dice quanne mi putéra sente cchiù sùue di mó ca ...
When? And yet I feel content and don’t get tired of slashing with my fingers through the air, tarantella-like. The hands have th ...
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