The TrapThe cats are soundly asleep before the fire;
logs and brushwood crackle in good cheer.
Out in the snow unmarked by a single footprint
a little sparrow gripped tightly in a trap
twitches and flaps his wings, his mouth agape.
(Translated by Luigi Bonaffini)
Le cravatte de tata
Quanta cravatte, schiocche e nucchetelle
de seta, de cuttone e de lanetta,
roscie e nere, turchine e rusatelle
appise ‘n fila dentr’a la tuletta!
A ‘na targhetta lu pennacchie ‘e fume
du Vesuvie e lu mare a Margellina,
a nu resvolte nu ponte e nu sciume
sott’a lu Papa che la papalina.
A ogne nude de chille cravatte
ievene sciure le mane de tata,
a ogne nude de chille cravatte
‘nnanz’a lu specchie na stanza lucente
sunavene lle mane nu strumente!
Tutte chille cravatte culurate
mò parene struminte senza fiate.