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

Serenade

It’s nighttime
my heart and the sky
are clear.
The stars
stopping
near,
in pairs
or alone,
graze
the night air
like sheep
in the field
without shrubs
and without end.
The moon comes out
and seems a shepherd
that watches and counts
the scattered flock,
and makes sure
that none
gets lost
amid the green.