Giovanni Pascoli

Ridon siringhe del color di lilla

sopra la mensa e odorano viole:

la capinera è tra gli aranci: brilla

                              tremulo il sole.


Tu pur, poeta, hai rifiorito il cuore

e trilli e frulli hai nella fantasia.

Le ignave brume e l’umile dolore

                              sorgi ed oblia.



Giovanni Pascoli

The syringes titter in lilac hues

on the shelf and violets scent the air:

a warbler’s in the orange grove: the sun

tremulous glares.


Your heart too, poet, has blossomed again

and utterings and flutterings fill your head.

The indolent haze and the humble pain

soar and then fade.



Translation ©Matilda Colarossi 2018

The poem, Maggio, by Giovanni Pascoli is from the collection Poesie varie, 1913

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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

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