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

The Grass

The grass
of my hometown
kisses me amid leaves,
it sheathes my brain.
The grass
of my hometown
grazes me with the wind,
happy to cradle me.
The grass
of my hometown
smells like a flower:
it digs in your heart.
The grass
of my hometown
soaks me with the moon,
warms me with the stars.
The grass
of my hometown
is as soft as a bed:
it shakes off my weariness.
Albany, February 9, 1986
(Translated by Luigi Bonaffini)