Ada Negri

So la bellezza d’un recesso verde
dove roseti carichi di thee
bisbigliano coi pioppi de le allee,
e in un col passo l’anima si perde.

Ogni cosa del mondo è sì lontana
di là, ch’io forse del mio lungo male
mi guarirei, con l’erba per guanciale,
vestendomi di salvia e maggiorana.

Forse….- ah, m’inganno. – Che un fischiar di serpi
m’accoglierà, sol che il cancello io schiuda:
per sùbita malia selvaggia e cruda
vedrò le rose tramutarsi in sterpi.


Ada Negri

I know the beauty of a green recess
where rose bushes abundant in teas
whisper to poplars along the avenues,
and in one sole step the soul is lost.

The things of the world are so far away
that perhaps of my dreadful affliction
I would be cured, with grass as my cushion,
and a dress donned of marjoram and sage.

Perhaps… – oh, I’m mistaken. – The hiss of snakes
will greet me, should I merely open the gate:
for under a sudden spell, raw and desolate,
I shall see roses changing into brakes.

Translation ©Matilda Colarossi 2018

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

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