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

Love

with one hand the baby played in the ashes, with the
other he scratched his head,
his sister called him into the sunlight, she sifted through
his hair
she climbed down to get the oil and a fine-tooth comb,
and she squashed
his lice on an exercise book
they were stiller than a piece of bread that’s finished
cooking
the angel watched over them, leaning on a ray of sunlight
(Translated by Michael Palma)