Dialect Poetry of Southern Italy (Italian Poetry in Translation Book 2)

The Ovalò

To stir again, one morning, at the ring
of dawn, down by the sanctuary of Our Lady,
and hear the voice: “Vittorio, the sun is up!”
And climb the mountain once again,
to lie in wait at the Birdbath,
for the return of the ovaló: for it to drink
once more, like that time a hundred years ago...
Of gold its feathers, and of air, nowhere
will the ovalò, or its song, be found.
(Translated by Anthony Molino)