Sicilian Poems / "Centona" DI NINO MARTOGLIO

Song: Sicilia isula d'oru (Sicily, golden isle) 

Expand Window  |   Homepage

 

L'omu secunnu la tiuria darviniana

L'omu, cumpari, avi, un naturali
Sempri di costroirisi da se`...
Ju aju un libru, dittu vigitali,
Ca c'e` 'na spiega di zoccu e` ed e`...

La quale, c'e` scrittu, tali e quali,
L'arvolo discinnenti di Noe`,
Unni ca l'omu nasci di l'armali
E nni pruveni dallu scimpanze`...

Non atro, ca la signa a` quattru manu
Mentre che il sceccu e` dittu: quattru peri...,
D'unni nni vinni il suo congegnoumanu...

Cunsistenti ('ddu libru sempri 'nsigna),
Ca l'omu avi du' manu ccu du' peri...:
E quindi e` menzu sceccu e menzu signa

Nino Martoglio


L’omu Scienti

L’omu scienti, mpari Vinirannu
S’osserva propriamente nel mangiari…
Danti, mintemu, un ghiornu, fici stari
N ovu all’impedi, senza favusu ngannu!

E chistu è nenti! Doppu quasi un annu,
Na pirsuna ci fa:- Scusa, dd’affari…
Non sacciu si mi speiu…chiddu di tannu…
Non disprezzannu, comu l’a' a cunzari?

A corpu, chiddu, dici: -ccu lu sali,
Il miglior muzzucuni so’ di l’omu!…-
Dda pirsuna arristò comu un minnali!…

Viriti unn’era agghiuntu l’Aligheri!
Ma vui, cumpari, mi diciti: comu?
Forza di sturiu… supra l’emisferi

Nino Martoglio


Il Telefrico Senza Fili

-Siti bastia, quatrupedi, animali…
e non vi dicu artro, non vi dicu!…
Le ntinne ci su’ sempri tali e quail,
E l’amu vistu iu e cumpari Ricu…

Chiddu ca non c’è cchiù, mio caro amicu
È il filo!… Oh, binidittu San Pasquali!…
Il filo dintra il quale, a tempo anticu
Curreva il telegramma naturali!…

La mia difoorta, però, n‘è chissa;
C’è un’artra cosa, ca ancora non sacciu
E della quail nn’arristai scossu!

Chiovi, mintemu, l’acqua si subissa?…
Com’è ca la parola del dispacciu
Agghica bella, asciutta comu n’ossu

Nino Martoglio


Lu Suli e la Luna

-Chi nni vuliti,caru amicu miu,
a mia m’à fattu sempri sta mprissioni:
ca a pettu di lu suli su’ nu schifu,
la luna e tutte li costellazioni.

Lu suli è fattu di na costruzioni
Ca fa n caluri, salaratu Diu,
Ca s’arristora na pupulazioni…
E inveci ccu la luna, nun quariu.

- N mumentu…Approvu zoccu aviti dittu:
lu suli ci la vinci, in questa classi;
ma…in quantu a lustru, mi pariti pazzu.

La luna nesci quann’è scuru fittu
E iu sparagnu sopra l’ogghiu a gassi…
U suli nesci a ghiornu, chi nni fazzu?

Nino Martoglio


Puisi di Pippinu Cullurafici
NUN C' ERA AL TERNATIVA

Risulenti burgatedda
Chi ti specchi trimulanti
Supra l'unni di lu mari
Azzurrinu e spumiggianti

t’arrusbigghi la matina
di lu suli a la livata,
assai tristi e silinziusa
comu amanti abbannunata

Burgatedda
BURGATEDDA

pensi forsi a la to genti,
chi custritta ad emigrari
ti lassò sula sulidda
senza mancu salutari?-

Ma nun c’era altirnativa
siddu partiri o ristari,
c’era sulu lu bisognu,
tanti vucchi di sfamari!

Burgatedda risulenti,
senti a mia, nun ti allarmari,
sti gintuzzi a lu partiri,
sannu gia' ch’hannu a turnari,

e sarà gran festa quannu
rinvirrannu li to mura,
tali e quali a primavera
rinineddi migratura!-


LU CACCIATURI

Spaccava l’alba, e subbitu a livanti,
lu celu nzanguinatu si facia,
livannu duci duci li sô canti,
la calantredda a volu si susia.

Stava di già lu cacciaturi all'erta,
mmenzu li canni di lu ciumi Jatu,
strincennu tra li manu la scupetta,
cartuccia 'ncanna, e battaggheddu isatu.

Or eccu ntra la naca svulazzari,
cu gran fraguri, un’anatra mpiriali,
lu cacciaturi è prontu ad arringari,
e a premiri lu griddu micidiali:

Cubbù ! Lu leccu di la scupittata,
da rocca a rocca rapidu si porta
ed arrusbigghia tutta la vaddata...
ma... l’anatredda no, ch’era già morta.

Anatredda


CARISTIA DI SALI

La mala nova, subitu
pi l’ariu batti l’ali,
ntra li mircati in generi,
c’è carististia di sali,

ma comu è mai pussibili,
si senti murmuriari,
si c’è di sali a jettitu
'ntra l’unni di lu mari?

Pi ministeri e cammari,
quarteri e tribunali,
c’è cucuzzuna a fetiri
ca sunnu senza sali.

Un tiziu assai di spiritu
appi la gran pinzata,
di siquistrari in totim
lu sali di l’annata.

Lu scopu era assai simplici,
virsarinni a vaguna,
dintra la fogna cranica
di ssi gran cucuzzuna.

Spirava, armuzza candida,
di fari rinsaviri,
ssu brancu di cannibali
salannuli a duviri.

Ci nn’ha fuddatu, dicinu,
migghiara di cantari,
senza però rinesciri
a farli ragiunari.

Eccu com’è pussibili
lu fattu singulari,
ca li mircati mancanu
di sali di manciari!


LU FIGGHIU DI L’EMIGRATU

Chianci lu picciriddu ntra la naca,
la vucca a cucchiaredda e fa ngua ngua,
pensa la nanna mentri chi l’annaca:
-Chiama la mamma o chiama lu papà?-

Ma la mamma nun c’è, nun c’è papuzzu,
ca sunnu a l’estru in cerca di furtuna,
-e tu però nun chianciri curuzzu,
ca la nannuzza tua nun t’abbannuna.

Ntimò, ntimò ti dugnu la pappuzza,
stenni li vrazza, pari ca mi ridi,
talè, talè com’apri la vuccuzza,
fa comu l’acidduzza ntra li nidi.

Ora, curuzzu miu, fa la bo bo,
chiudi l’ucchiuzzi, bravu d’accussì,
eccu ca lu sunnuzzu ti calò,
dormi ca poi ti portu a la diddì.-


O CAMPU O MORU

Caru cumpari, v’haiu a cunfissari,
chi a nun aviri denti su duluri,
cosa chi assira ebbi a custatari
in casa di don Vitu lu dutturi.

Prisenti don Luigi l’avvucatu,
lu sinnacu e don Saru lu ncigneri,
e pi finiri, si nun vaiu erratu,
li rispittivi nobili muggheri.

A un certu puntu di la siritina,
la criata passau cu la nguantera,
pi accittari pigghiai na muscardina,
ca 'mmucca mi pareva di lamera.

La misi annunca a bagnu di sputazza,
cu rispettu parrannu, na mezz’ura,
pi smuddicarla ci vulia la mazza,
sennu ca di na ciaca era cchiù dura!

Parrari nun putia, sorti mancina,
tant’è facia lu versu di la cucca,
pi causanza di dda muscardina
chi avevu ancora ntimpagnata mmucca.

Ma ssennu poi dda gran signuria,
mi cuminciaau a rivolgiri dumanni,
pinsai ch’era chiuttostu scurtisia,
ristari mutu comu un barbagianni.

Dissi fra mia e mia, o campu o moru,
sta muscardina mi l’agghiuttu sana;
mi misi ad ammuttalla soru soru,
si nni calò, gran figghia di buttana.


LA FATTUCCHERA

C’era a lu scaru un munnu di pirsuni,
lu mari era in timpesta e si vidia,
na gran cura di drau a pinnuluni,
sucava 1'acqua e immensa si facia.

Saru lu marinaru supra aceddu,
dda mmenzu all’unni ch’eranu in fururi,
rimava dispiratu, mischineddu,
invucannu a vuci forti 1u Signuri..

La genti a riva mesta murmuria,
cu gran firvuri un coru di prigheri,
quann’eccu si fa avanti Rusulia,
1a cchiu' putenti di li fattucchieri:

isa li vrazza all’ariu a cruci e nuci,
poi stampa un cerchiu e ntunnu ci firria,
scaccia cu un pedi scausu tri nuci,
e dici tri paroli di maggia.

Ed eccu ca lu mari s’abbunazza,
e la cura di drau tagghiata assicca,
di gran filicità la genti impazza,
ca Saru supra aceddu è già a la sicca.


CAMIGLIATELLU

Luna d’argentu, chi vagannu vai
pi lu libiru celu, silinziusa,
quannu su munti Scuru pusirai,
cerca Camigliatellu quasi ascusa

tra castagneti e giganteschi pini;
dicci ca iu la mannu a salutari,
dicci ca iu ci vogghiu tantu beni
e chi nun mi nni pozzu dispisari;

dicci ca lu ricordu so è legatu
a la mia giuvinizza spinsirata,
unni lu munnu m’apparia ncantatu
e la vita di rosi custiddata,

Dicci ca sugnu griggiu divintatu,
che è già un ricordu la me giuvintù,
e si mi rividissi in chistu statu,
nun mi ricunuscissi forsi cchiù.

Dicci ca l’haiu custantimenti amata,
amati li so voscura e surgenti,
l’oduri di l’incenzi, ogni cuntrata,
amatu lu ricordu pirsistenti.

Pippinu Cullurafici


Li Tintazioni Di La Pacenzia
Sta puisia m'à ricito' me matri, tri misi prima di lassarimi.
Avia 92 anni. A idda ci la nzignò me' nanna
cchiù di ottanta anni prima.


Nniputenza Divina Nniputenza,
voggiu l'aiutu di iu suppurtari
li travagghi di stu munnu cu pacenzia;
di putiri serviri ed amari,
vogghiu l'aiutu di la vostra assistenza:
ogni cruci putilla suppurtari,
vogghiu suffriri quantu un pozzu cchiui,
basta, Signuri, ca n'affennu a Vui.

Ora ca un ghiornu nsullintata fui,
la Morti a la Pacenzia ci dicia:
-Sugnu vinuta pi dariti la morti,
nun c'è cchiù vita a stu munnu pi tia.-
-Oh Morti prima dammi la licenzia:
prima ricivirò li Saramenti,
poi veni, Morti, e iu moru cuntenti.
Onnipotenti sempri eternu Diu,

viniti Vui nni mia Saramintatu,
di celu n terra pi amuri miu.
Spusu di l'arma mia disidiratu,
Vui siti u veru amicu Patri Diu,
l'amuri chi purtati è svisciratu.
Gràpiti arma mia e cori miu
quantu trasi Gesù Saramintatu.-
Lu sacerdoti si nn'à nnamuratu

di li belli paroli assai mpurtanti,
lu So' Corpu Santissimu ci à datu,
lu Saramentu e la Divina Maistati.
Uccifaru era n forma di surdatu,
iava tantannu li genti nta li strati:
ntisi ca la Pacenzia stava mali,
curriu currennu a l'abissi nfernali:
-Lu sai ca la Pacenzia sta mali?

Ora, ora l'Altissimu ci iiu.
A cu la v'a pigghia e la porta a stu locu,
lu sô regalu un è cosa di pocu.-
Uccifaru chiamò, e Cacafocu
dici:- Ci vaiu iu ca sù Cinniredda.
Ccà vi la portu cu na canzunedda.-
Iddu si misi na mantillinedda,
paria na puviredda tantu affritta,

e ghiu n casa di la Pacenzia.
Cci iiu n casa pi la carità.
-Su puvireddi tutti li me genti,
iu orfana arristai mmenzu a la strata,
ridutta sugnu a ghiri a dimannari,
pi nun perdiri l'onuri di campari.-
-Sintiti vui, figghiuzza, c'a'ti a fari:
lu sabatu vi aviti a cunfissari,

a duminica la Santa Cumunioni.
Campati e sirviti figghia mia
quantu vi campa e pruvvidi Maria.
La puviredda, di saggia chi paria,
spiriu, s'inn'iiu di chiddu locu,
d'unni passava parrava e dicia:
-Nun ci vogghiu iri nè assai nè pocu.-
Uccifaru a la porta l'aspittava:

-Dimmi c'ài fattu, vili, c'ài mancatu?
Un mi criria mai nun la purtari!-
-Milli voti a lu nfernu vogghiu stari
ma no sta donna sentila parrari.-
-Viditi c'aiu ccà, chi vi nni pari?!
Ca mancu ponnu sentiri paroli!-
Pigghia un furcuni mali arrimunnatu
e supra li corna ci l'a scafuddatu.

-S'inveci di tia ci iava Vracadilizzu,
mi la purtava finu a lu capizzu.-
Affaccio' di dda vanedda com'un rizzu:
-Iu avutru chi chissu quannu vogghiu fazzu!
Sintiti chista varca comu l'aggrizzu:
mi vestu n forma di sacerdutazzu,
e ci dicu:"Iu sugnu un cunfissuri titulatu,
lu Papa di mia s'à nnamuratu."

Ha ghiutu n casa di la Pacenzia,
ci pigghiaru la seggia e s'assittò:
-Iu sugnu un cunfissuri titulatu
c'assorvu ogni sorta di piccatu!-
-A mia, patri, nun m'accurri atru:
un mumentu avanti passò na puviredda,
e c'insignai na diviziunedda,
S'ha quariatu, ha pigghiatu di susu,

si aiu fattu mali mi nn'accusu.-
-Chistu eni un piccatu assai pricipitusu!
Chistu li donni nun lu ponnu fari!
Li donni dari scola nun è usu,
c'è la scumunica e tu n ti pò sarvari.-
-O sacerdoti dunami canuscenza
d'unni abita Gesù Saramintatu?-
Lu sacerdoti ch'era a lu capizzu,

spiriu, si nn'iiu lu Vracadilizzu.
Uccifaru a la porta l'aspittava:
-Dimmi ch'ài fattu, vili, c'ài mancatu?
Nun mi cridia mai nu la purtari.-
-Milli voti a lu nfernu vogghiu stari,
ma no sta donna sentila parrari.-
-Viriti c'aiu cca, chi vi nni pari?
ca mancu ponnu sentiri paroli!-

Pigghia n furcuni mali arrimunnatu,
e n capu li corna ci l'à scafuddatu.
-Si nun ci vaiu iu un si fa nenti,
accumpagnatu di un pocu di valenti.-
Si nni parteru milli e setticentu,
in forma di zitidduzzi trasfurmati,
tutti a pedi scavusu marciavanu,
diuni, a pani e acqua diunavanu.

-Lu vidi chi facemu, figghia mia?
Tutti pi fari stari bona a tia.
Quannu sta' bona e ti levi di stu lettu,
ài a fari un viaggiu a pedi scavusi a
Maumettu.- -Oh, Onnipotenti Diu aiutu aspettu:
lu nfernu tuttu è cca, e com'aiu a fari?
Chisti dunzelli chi mostranu affettu,
nnimonii sunnu pi farimi addannari!-

L'Onnipotenti Diu senti chi fici...
(Ma chi ci vinni a ddi serpi nfilici?!)
-Micheli Santu pigghiati sta spata,
vai a struiri sti serpi nfilici,
ca sunnu n casa di n'arma biata.
Facci li spaddi niuri comu la pici.
A iddi li subissi com'ài ntisu;
a idda mi la porti n Paraddisu.-

Micheli Santu l'abitu si misi
di Iudici tremennu e Capitanu,
e si partiu di lu Paraddisu,
cu l'ali aperti e la spata n manu.
Uccifaru facia:-Chi cori riprisu,
dirria di irinninni a manu, a manu,
c'aiu nta l'occhi a l'Ancilu Micheli,
chi tirribili dannu nsa mai veni.

Nto mentri chi dicia " nsa mai si veni…"
Micheli Santu subitu accumpari.
Com'arrivò ci dissi:-Torna beni...!-
Tira la spata d'unni veni, veni,
a sara fu chiddu chi si ci truvò.
L'affrittu Uccifaru cu li virgineddi,
chi chiantu chi facianu puvireddi!
Cu diceva "Ahi a li corna" e "Ahi a la peddi",

-Basta Micheli Santu cchiù nun dati,
ca semu veramenti struppiati.-

-Iamuninni surella mia, chi Maria
ha travagghiatu na vesta d'oru pi tia.-

Auturi ignotu


Pi na vecchia amica
Omini E Gatti

M'arricordu quann'era nicareddu,
certi siri di marzu ca lu ventu
fora friscava comu un fuareddu

Da li canali mi jiuncia un lamentu,
un lamentu ncuttusu, chanciulinu,
comu di picciriddi senza abbentu.

La vuci mi paria di lu distinu
chi ncuteva timuri a pietati,
ma stu chiantu nsistenti di cuntinu,

lu facianu li gatti nnamurati,
li gatti nnamurati chi poi vitti
chi piniavanu cu li vuci cchiù accurati,

supra li fumalora nchitti nchitti,
cu la luna di lu celu chi taliava
e li stiddi curiusi zitti zitti.

Nni vitti dui, una chi piniava
cu na vuci c'un avia assumigghiu,
e mpizzu a li canali caminava;

1' avutra gatta ci mustrau 1' artigghiu
e prontu a scappari ncontru ci s'avanza...
Poi si ciararu a dettiru di pigghiu!

La luna chi talia a pinnuluni,
e pari suddisfatta di stu munnu,
surridi a sti maneri di minchiuni,

picchi ti dicu ca nfunnu nfunnu,
o chi si chianci supra li canali,
spargennu lu lamentu ntunnu ntunnu,

o na chitarra assai sintimintali
porta a la luna la malincuma,
cridimi, sempri chiddu è lu fmali.

Lu fmi è sempri chiddu, bedda mia,
chiddu di tuti 1'avutri animali.
Si 1'omu ca lu cridi porcheria,

cerca di cummigghiallu iddu fa mali,
picchì accussi nni fici la natura,
comu li atti supra li canali.

Ora sta canzunedda nun si cura
di zoccu pò diri la gintazza,
sacciu ca la me vita ad ura ad ura,

già va cuddannu, comu a la tirrazza
1'urtimu raggiu a sira, perciò dicu:
circamunni ogni tantu na ragazza.

Chistu ca è pi 1'omini 1'anticu
rimeddiu estremu contru li malanni,
iu vi cinsigghiu comu vostru amicu.

E nui ca semu amici di tant'anni,
pirchì nun facemu puru sta pazzia
vistu ca duna gioi accussi granni?

Ora sta canzunedda fatta a tia,
un pocu allera un pò sintimintali,
quali scopu ti cridi c'avirria?

Chiddu di li atti supra li canali,
lu scopu bedda mia
chi ci hannu tutti 1'avutri animali.


NUVENA DI NATALI

Quannu Cesari ittàu
lu gran bannu rivulùsu,
San Giuseppi si truvàu,
'ntà na ciazza 'rispittùsu.

Tuttu timidu e cunfusu,
comu fazzu ccù Maria,
s'inni torna lacrimannu,
lu gran ciàntu ca facìa.

Puòi si misi a pinzari,
chì cci rìcu a Maria,
suddu senti stù gran bannu,
vòli vènirì ccù mia.

Maria Santa ci ricìa:
fatta sia la vuluntàti,
mentri Diu cìàrrispunniu,
viegnu unni mi purtàti.

Cavalcannu ccù Maria,
al di là ri Nazzarèt,
San Giuseppi l'assìstia,
sempri a llatu di Maria.

A Betlem am'agghìri,
unnè Cesari assulùtu,
cciamà gghiri a ppàiari,
a lu rè lu sô tributu.

Ntrà lu friddu e la ilata,
quantu acqua ca ciùvia,
quantu nnoia ccì facìa,
alla vergini Maria.

Chista è a nostra santa via,
ri pasturi e pùvirièddi,
s'ancùntràru ncumpagnìa,
ntà l'affritti pagghiareddi.

Ntà ll'amìci e li parienti,
sùnu iuti a tuppùliàri:
ccà ntì mìa ccì sunu aggiènti,
nun vì pozzu arrìzzittàri.

C'è cu fingi cà nun nzènti,
e ccù senti fa lì scùsi,
tuppuliànnu fortimènti,
tutti porti stànnu nciùsi.

E Maria era ncinta rossa
e duveva partùriri,
San Giuseppi ccì ricìa,
Arrìpuòsiti Maria.

Ntà ddà strada e ntà ddù luocu,
ancùntràrru mpilligrìnu,
ccì ricìa, ntà stà cuntràta,
ccè na rutta assai vicìnu.

Ma nunn'èra mpìlligrìnu,
era n'Angiùlu mannàtu,
dall'Impèru suòu Divìnu,
cà alla rùtta l'ha purtàtu.

Alla rutta sù arrìvàti,
tutt'inzièmi ncùmpàgnìa,
prima a Dìu anà ringraziàtu,
la cilesti cumpagnìa.

Quantu Angili Divini,
ccù assistenza e summa cura,
sempri stànniccì 'vicìni,
a Marìa, la gran Signùra.

La gràn notti s'avvicina
di la nascita Divina,
priparati i vostri cuori,
con affèttu e con amùri.

Risbigghiàtivi pasturi,
ccà c'è nnatu lu Missìa,
Betlem a lì friddùri,
postu mbràzza di Marìa.

Chista è a notti ri Natali,
ca nascìu lu Principàli,
ca nascìu rarrìèri e porti,
maccàrrùna ccù rrìcòtti.

E stàsìra che l'urtima sira,
prìparàti la menza lira,
e sunn'avìti v'accùmiràti,
basta c'ammìa mì la dàti.

Anonimu 
 Man According to Darwin

Man, my good friend, is made in such a way
he can rebuild himself continuously.
I have a book on Vegetable History
that tells it like it is, no more no less.

In it the tree comes down straight from Noah
is written so that you can clearly see
exactly how man's born from animals,
and more precisely from a chimpanzee.

The only difference being that a monkey's
quadrumanous, hence comes its human look;
while donkeys are quadrupedous instead.

It follows that a man with his two hands,
and two feet, as stated in the book,
should be known as half monkey and half donkey.

Translation by G. Cipolla


The Educated Man

The educated man, my dear friend
can be seen in his eating ways…
Dante, for example, one day, had an egg
standing erect, with no trick at all!

And this is nothing! After almost a year
somebody says:- Excuse me, that business… 
I don’t know if I’m clear…that last year thing.
Without offense, how should I season it?

Right there, he answers:-With salt,
it is the best mouthful of man!…-
That guy’s mouth readily hung open!…

Do you see at what point was Alighieri?
You dear friend say:-But how?-
A matter of studies…over the hemispheres!

Translation by The Sicilian


The Wireless Telegraph

- You are an animal, quadruped, ignorant…
And I won’t say another word, I won’t!…
Sure we have antennae, just as before,
I have seen ‘em with my friend Henry…

What is now missing, my dear friend,
are the wires!…Oh, blessed be the saints!…
The wires within which, in ancient times
Was sliding the natural telegram…

My problem, though, is not this;
There is also some that don't comprehend
Which has me all shook up:

It rains, for example, the water floods all?…
How is it that the word of the message
Gets there as dry as a bone?

Translation by The Sicilian


The Sun and the Moon

-What can I tell you, my dear friend,
I this impression always had
That of the sun in comparison don’t count
The moon and all the constellations.

The sun is made of such a matter
That gives heat, blessed be the Lord,
That gives comfort to all the population…
But with the moon I don’t get warm.

- Wait a minute… I agree with what you say:
The sun in this case wins for sure;
But…as light goes, you are crazy.

The moon comes out when it is pitch black
And I save over lighting oil and gas too…
The sun rises at day light, what good is it to me?

Translation by The Sicilian


Peppino's Collurafici's poems
IT WAS NOT AN OPTION


Smiling simple little town,
mirroring your trembling image
in the waves of your sea,
blue when calm or cresting white,

in the morning you wake up
with the sun at the hint of dawn,
very sad and forcibly hushed,
as a much forsaken lover.

Village
VILLAGE

Maybe you wonder about your people
who compelled to emigrate,
left you alone for foreign lands,
with not even a sad good-bye?

It was not for us an option
for the leaving or the staying,
it was the great need
for so many mouths to feed.

Smiling simple little town,
listen here, don't be dismayed,
these people when they left
already knew they will be back.

A jubilee will be the day
they'll return within your walls,
as when in spring come back,
the ever migrant little happy swallows.


THE HUNTER

Was the hint of dawn, and, in the East,
bloody was getting the sky,
and raising sweetly its songs,
in flight was rising the lark.

The hunter was already at heed,
in the river Jato among the brush,
the shotgun holding in the hands,
round in chamber and the trigger up.

When, behold, flying from the loop,
with great noise, an imperial duck,
ready is the hunter with the poised gun,
to depress fast the killer trigger:

Cuboom ! The loud shotgun echo,
fast goes running from rock to rock
waking up the valley in the whole,
But...not the poor duck, dead she was.

Duck


SCARCITY OF SALT

The bad news hastily,
through the air flies,
among the general stores
scarcity of salt there is.

But how is it possible,
whispered around, you hear,
if so much salt
in the sea is there?

In every hall and chamber,
high courts and tribunals,
there are many hard heads,
with no salt at all.

A guy, with lots of humor,
had the greatest idea,
to sequester in total,
the salt for the year.

The reason was simple,
to throw it by car full,
of those numb heads
into the cavity of the skull.

His hope, trusting soul,
was to make come alive
that herd of cannibals,
by salting them all.

He pushed in them, they say,
pounds by the thousands,
without being able,
in reason them to spring.

That’s how is it possible,
this singular reality,
why the general stores
have a salt a scarcity.


THE SON OF THE EMIGRANT

Cries the baby even in the crib,
the little mouth open saying ngoue,
while the crib rocks, thinks grandma:
-Does he call mommy or maybe papa?-

Mommy is not there, neither is daddy,
they are abroad for a better venture,
-and you little one, don’t cry, my heart,
will never live you alone, your grandma.

Here, here, I give you some food,
he opens his harms, looks as he smiles,
look, look how he opens his mouth,
seems a baby bird in the nest.

Now, my little heart do go to sleep,
like that, there, close your eyes,
see, sleep already came, rest a little,
sleep and then bye bye we’ll go.


LIVE OR DIE

My dear friend, I have to confess,
being toothless is a great pain,
which last night I had to experience
at doctor Don Vito’s residence.

Present too the lawyer Don Luigi,
the mayor and Don Saro the engineer,
and even, if I am not mistaken,
their respective, pretty noble ladies.

At a certain point during the night,
the maid came around with the tray,
not to be rude a hard cookie I took,
that in my mouth felt like a rock.

I put it then in a saliva bath,
forgive my jargon, for half an hour,
to crumble it I will need a hammer,
because it was harder than a stone.

I couldn’t talk, damned my luck,
so of the howl I made the sound,
because of that hardest cookie,
that was wedged in my mouth.

But when the gracious host,
addressed me with some questions,
I thought to be rude  of me,
and like a blockhead to look.

I thought within myself: live or die,
this hard cookie I’ll swallow whole,
so little by little started to push,
and down it went the big son of a...mole.


THE SORCERER

Crowded was already the fish auction,
you could see that in tempest was the sea,
a marine spout was hanging down,
taking water and growing mean.

Saro, the fisherman, on his boat,
amongst the waves, in big turmoil,
desperately rowing, poor lad,
was praying at great voice to our Lord.

Was mumbling the people on the bank,
with great fervor a litany of prayers,
when Rosalie appears with dare,
the most powerful of the sorcerers.

She raises up her arms in a cross,
draws a circle and around it goes,
three walnuts breaks with a bear foot,
and says of magic silently a few words.

Behold, calms down the sea,
disappears, cut off, the marine spout;
with great happiness the people shouts,
that Saro and the boat are now on out of the sea.


CAMIGLIATELLO

Silvery moon, that roaming go
silently, through the empty sky,
when over mount Scuro you come,
find Camigliatello almost hidden

amongst chestnut trees and giant pines;
tell her that my greetings I send,
tell her that I am still in love,
and will never be able to forget.

Tell her that tied up is the remembrance
to my past youth free of problems,
when enchanted seemed to be the world
and life studded with joy and flowers.

Tell her that I have become gray,
that it is only a memory my youth,
and if she could see me as I am today,
she could recognize me no more.

Tell her that I loved her constantly,
I loved her woods and her springs,
the smells of resins, and every place,
I still love the persistent thought.

Translation by The Sicilian


The Patience's Temptations
This poem was dictated to me by my mother, while she
was sick in bed. She learned it from my grandmother
80 yaers before. She was 92.


Oh Omnipower, divine Omnipotence,
I ask your help so I can endure
The troubles of this world with patience;
To give me strength so I can serve and love,
I look for and ask your assistance.
For any cross I want to bear
And I want to suffer to the most,
Before I offend you, Lord of host.

It came to pas that I was ill,
And Death came to my bedside and said:
-I am here to take you away.
There is no more life for you in this world!-
-Oh Death, give me first license
To receive the Holy Sacrament,
And then, happy, with you I come.
Omnipotent, eternal almighty God,

Come to me, for ever Holiest One,
From Heaven to earth for the love of me.
Groom of my soul, always desired,
You are my true friend, Almighty Father,
Your love for us is the most heartfelt.
Open, o my soul and my heart
Let the most Sacred hug your soul.
The priest present felt much love,

For those very important words
To her he gave Jesus Body Most Holy,
The Sacrament and his Divine Majesty.
Lucifer was dressed as a soldier,
Tempting people as he went in the streets
He heard that Patience was ill,
And flew fast to the abyss of hell:
Do you know that Patience is sick?

Just now the Highest went to her.
Who goes and brings here Patience
Will get the greatest recompense-
Lucifer called and Spitfire answered:
-I will go with my warm, embalming ashes,
And I'll bring her here with a song.-
He put on a very old cloak,
And looked like a very afflicted lady;

He went limping at Patience bedside,
He went asking for the usual alms
-All very poor were my keens,
I was left orphan in the street,
Forced I am to ask for alms,
To be able to live day by day.-
-Listen to me, daughter, what you do:
On Saturday you go to confession,

And on Sunday take Holy Communion.
Live and serve my dear little girl,
And for you will provide our Mother Mary.-
The poor lady that was so subdued,
Ran fast, disappeared from that place.
She running was screaming while saying:
-I don't want to be near her no more!
-Lucifer was waiting at hell's door

-Tell me what have you done, vile,
I didn't think you wouldn't bring her to me!-
-A thousand times in hell I rather stay,
Not to hear what that lady had to say!-
-Look here what I have, what you think!?-
He can't even stand the merest words.-
He grabs a badly pruned branch,
And breaks it over its horns.

-If instead of you I sent Vracadilizzu
He would have brought her to my feet.
He appeared at the top of a hellish path:
- I do much more if I take it at heart!
Listen to how I can straighten this boat:
I'll dress up as an old priest,
And I'll say: I am a confessor with title,
Even the Pope has a strong liking for me.-

He went strait to see Patience,
And pushed a chair with malevolence:
-I am a confessor with title,
I can absolve any kind of seen!-
-I, father, do not need anything:
A while ago a poor girl came by,
I told her to go to church and pray...
She got mad and disappeared fast,

If this is a seen I want to confess.-
-This is a seen most ugly!
Women are not supposed to teach!
Teaching, women, cannot do!
You are now excommunicated,
Salvation for you is very dubious!
-Oh my dear priest tell me now,
Where is Jesus the Sacrament?...-

He disappeared, like the wind he went.
Lucifer at hell's door was waiting:
-Tell me what have you done, vile?
I didn't think you wouldn't bring her to me!
-A thousand times in hell I want to stay,
Rather the hear the lady what she'll say!-
-Look here what I have, what a nerd!
He can't even hear the merest words.-

He grabs a branch badly pruned
And breaks it over its horns.
If I don't go myself we'll have no gain,
With soldiers who know how to plan.-
He took a group of seventeen hundreds,
All in the form of teenage girls,
All were marching bare footed,
Hungry, fasting on water and bread alone.

-Do you see, soul of my soul, what we do?
And all to make you strong and well again.
When you recover and are restored,
You will make a bare foot journey to Lucifer.-
-Oh Omnipotent God, your help I need:
Hell is all here, what am I to do?!
All these affectionate teenagers
Demons are to damn my soul!-

The Omnipotent God answered the cry:
(The girls and Lucifer, oh, how they'll sigh)
-Holy Michael take your sword
Go and destroy those unhappy serpents
Which are disturbing that blessed soul.
Beat them up to the most in every way,
Push them deeper in hell as my plan,
And her you bring to me, here in Heaven.-

Holy Michael worn the splendid suit
Of Captain and Supreme Judge,
And Heaven immediately he left,
With open wings and sword at hand.
Lucifer in mean time was uneasy:
-Let's get away from here, I fear
The Archangel Michael will appear.
What terrible damage if He comes here.-

While he says :-...if He comes here...-
Holy Michael right there appears;
As He showed himself he said:-Behold!-
He handles the sword on left and right,
Poorest that demon who was near by.
Afflicted Lucifer with all the virgins,
Oh, how they were crying the damned souls,
They complained: Not on the horns, not on the skin

-Enough Holy Michael, beat us no more,
We are really hurt and in great pains.-

-Come sister Patience with me,
Our Lady made a golden dress just for you.-

Author unknown; Translation by The Sicilian


For an old friend
Men and Cats

I remember as when I was little
Some March nights how the wind
Outside whistled as a fast bullet.

From the roof tiles it came a moan,
A continuous lament, like crying,
As of a little child, without rest.

The voice sounded as of destiny,
Inspiring both pity and anxiety,
But this insistent, continuous moan

Was made by the cats in love.
The cats in love which then I saw
Suffering in the most afflicted voices,

Staying very close to the chimneys,
With the moon watching from the sky,
And the stars in silence very curious.

I saw two of them, one as in agony,
With a voice without similitude,
Walking slowly on the roof edges,

The other one, steady, showed its claws,
Ready to flee, goes to the encounter…
They sniffed each other and started the bliss.

The moon dangling down and looking,
seems satisfied at our world,
Smiles at this dim-witted manners,

Because I want to say in truth really,
Either one cries on the roof tops,
Shedding a wail there all around,

Or with a sentimental guitar,
sends the melancholy to the moon,
believe me, the end is still the same.

The end is always the same, my dear,
That of all the other animals.
If man, who thinks it is a dirty deal,

Tries to hide it, he is in error,
Because this is how nature has us made,
As cats over the roof tops.

Now this little song doesn't care
About the gossip of some people,
I know that my life by the hour

Is fast setting as on the mountain
The sun's last ray, then I say:
Let us have too that bliss anyway.

This, established from long ago,
Extreme remedy for any pain,
I advice it to you, as your friend,

Since we were friends for so long,
Why don't we do this craziness
seeing it give such great joys?

Now this little song made for you,
A little gay, a little sentimental,
Which reason do you think it might have?

That of the cats over the roof tiles
The reason, my dear,
That have all the other animals.


CHRISTMAS NOVENA

When Caesar the Emperor
sent ruling proclamation
St. Joseph being outside heard
the message loud and clear.

In a timid confusion:
-How do I tell this to Mary?-
Almost in tear and very sad
He went home, the news scary.

So he started to think,
how to bring the news to Mary:
-If she knows all this,
With me will want to come.

Holy Mary with great courage:
said:- His will, let it be done.-
While the Baby God said within:
Wherever I’ll go to be with you.-

Riding an ass all the way,
they go far from Nazareth.
St. Joseph assisting her
with humble watchful eye.

-We to Bethlehem have to go,
it is the will of the Emperor,
once there we have to pay,
Our homage to the conqueror.

It was snowy and very cold,
while the rain was falling too,
bringing very much suffering
to the holy virgin Mary.

This is the way we have to travel
as shepherds and poor people.
They found some company
in the country’s little huts.

To some friends and relatives
on the doors they went to knock:
-Sorry, we have much company,
We really have no room for you.-

Some pretended:-Don’t understand.-
And those who did, excuses they had.
They knocked everywhere,
nobody willing to open a door.

Mary was ready to deliver,
really big, she was in pain;
apprehensive Joseph said:
Take a rest, let’s stop a while.

On that road, right in that path
they met a lonely pilgrim,
he told them:- Around here
I know a grotto very near.-

He was not a lonely pilgrim,
he was an angel sent by God
from His Divine Empire
And took them to the cave.

They all arrived at the grotto,
all together with the company,
and thanked God the Almighty,
the heavenly humble group.

Oh, so many celestial angels,
they assisted with great care,
being always near there,
Holy Mary, the Great Lady.

The great night is almost here
of the mysterious Divine birth,
clean your hearts, get ready
with love and humility.

All you shepherds wake up,
here is born the Messiah
in the cold of Bethlehem,
there He is, on Mary’s lap.

This is Christmas night,
when was born the world’s light,
was born in every home,
Let’s dance and sing a song.

And tonight is the last night
get ready our reward,
if you don’t have it ready,
take a loan we need the lard.

Translation by The Sicilian