La quercia caduta

Giovanni Pascoli

Dov’era l’ombra, or sé la quercia spande

morta, né più coi turbini tenzona.

La gente dice: Or vedo:era pur grande!

Pendono qua e là dalla corona

i nidietti della primavera.

Dice la gente: Or vedo:era pur buona!

Ognuno loda, ognuno taglia. A sera

ognuno col suo grave fascio va.

Nell’aria, un pianto… d’una capinera

che cerca il nido che non troverà.

The fallen oak

Giovanni Pascoli

Where first was shade, now the oak extends

dead, it no longer battles with the wind.

People say: Now I see. It was immense!

From the foliage here and there they gain

the tiny birds’ nests of the spring.

People say: Now I see. It was great.

Each one praises, each one cuts. Evening

each one with grave bundles they do go.

In the air, a blackcap…her crying

echoes for the nest that is no more.

Translation ©Matilda Colarossi 2020