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

(Marcin) #1
December

A tail fallen among
December leaves
when the sky draws
crooked roads leading nowhere.
What isn’t said
is taken away by a truck
scrambling up stony paths.
Water swirling
in the cesspits, with so many cores
and tires fallen in, no one
knows the face of the water.
The leaves in December become
snakes and lions.
(Translated by Luigi Bonaffini)

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