Spring
III.And so we passed the time both March and April
yammering together, among friends,
always with our hands holding the rifle
always turning to look toward the fields
when May suddenly arrives, and from the mouth
of the cannons, without ever a rest,
big as a barrel every shell shoots out
and blows to pieces the near mountain crest.
Without a let up, a thousand batteries
that are awakened soon enough out here
strike up the wrath of God, a dreadful hell,
as if for hours on end you found yourself
always on railroad tracks, and if you were
endlessly being dragged inside the tunnels.
(Translated by Luigi Bonaffini)