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

A Green Harp

The walnut tree pricks up its ears
and the elm tree stirs.
A row of reeds over the ditch’s rim
becomes a harp.
Dawn rubs it with its rosy fingers ─
and in a trice,
at Mozart’s voice, the day begins to rise.
(Translated by Luigi Bonaffini)