Viviana De Cecco’s translation of Ugo Betti’s poem: Canzonetta (Poesia di Guerra) – The Ditty (A War Poem) (Italian to English)


Canzonetta (Poesia di Guerra) 


I soldati vanno alla guerra.

Vanno come trasognati,

e la notte li rinserra.

La strada cammina, cammina

come una misteriosa pellegrina,

e sulle case addormentate

tutte le stelle si sono affacciate.

Ma i soldati sono quasi fanciulli,

e si mettono a cantare

la ninna nanna, per cullare

una tristezza che non si vuole addormentare.

Le stelle

sono come gocce d’argento

e le fa tremare il vento!

E mentre dormono tutte le belle

noi ce ne andiamo per la bianca strada

a ritrovare un’altra fidanzata!

Ed anche voi, dolcezza, dormite…

e del mio bene nulla sapete!

Volevo parlare, una sera…

ma ogni detto fuggì dal mio cuore

come dalla gabbia una capinera!

E voi, bambini, fate la nanna

e non fate disperare la mamma.

Dormite

col guanciale bianco sotto la testa,

e intanto viaggia la tempesta!

O fratello ! Prima di partire

tante cose ti volevo dire…..

Ma come foglie portate dal vento

sono fuggite , e non me ne rammento!

O mamma, voi sola non dormite,

come una volta, quand’ero malato!

E voi sola m’avete vegliato,

e non mi potevo addormentare

se voi non eravate al capezzale.

Ma ero un fanciullo!

Ora , mamma, state contenta!

Sentite? il figlio vostro canta!

Canta e cammina per la bianca strada

per ritrovare la sua fidanzata.

(Ma le mamme non possono dormire,

e quella canzone le fa singhiozzare).

Sulle case addormentate

tutte le stelle sono tramontate.

I soldati vanno a testa china

e la strada cammina cammina.

The Ditty (A War Poem)


 

The soldiers are going to war.

They walk as if in a dream,

the night oppresses them.

The road goes on and on,

like a mysterious pilgrim.

All the stars have appeared

over the sleeping houses.

But the soldiers are almost childlike,

and begin to sing

a lullaby to rock

a sadness that refuses to sleep.

The stars

are like silver drops,

and the wind makes them tremble.

While all the beautiful girls sleep,

we wander down the white road

to find another fiancée!

You sleep, too, sweetheart…

You don’t even know if I'm well!

One night, I wanted to talk…

But every word escaped my heart

like a blackbird from its cage!

Children, go to sleep

and don’t make your mommy desperate.

Go to sleep

with a white pillow under your heads,

while the storm is on its way.

Oh brother! Before I left,

I had so many things to tell you…

But they flew away like leaves

in the wind, and now I can’t remember them!

Oh, Mother, you alone do not sleep,

as you did when I was sick!

You alone watched over me,

I could not fall asleep

unless you were by my bed.

But I was just a little boy!

Now, Mother, be happy!

Can’t you hear? Your son is singing!

He’s singing along the white road

to find his beloved.

But the mothers cannot sleep,

and that song makes them sob.

All the stars have set

over the sleeping houses.

The soldiers walk with their heads bowed

and the street goes on and on.


Viviana De Cecco is a writer, translator, and visual artist. She works as a content writer and book reviewer for Tint Journal and NewMyths. Her translations of twentieth-century poetry and short stories from Spanish, French and Italian have appeared in Azonal Translation, The Polyglot Magazine and Atèlier d’écriture. Her fiction and poetry have also appeared in Poets’ Choice, Aôthen Magazine, Seaside Gothic, Yuvoice.org, and others. As an artist, her visual art appeared in Mud Season Review, Acta Victoriana, Spellbinder Magazine, MayDay Magazine. Since 2013, she has published short stories, poems and novels of various genres.

Ugo Betti (1892-1953) was an Italian poet and playwright. While studying law, he volunteered at the outbreak of World War I. When the Italian troops were defeated by the Austrians at Caporetto, he was captured and interned first in some German prison camps with other writers such as the famous Gadda and Tecchi. They became friends and shared the hut nicknamed “the poets’ hut”. At the end of the war he finished his studies and became a judge. He wrote love and war poems and plays. He died of an incurable disease at the age of 61.

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