Scapigliatura

Robert Caruso

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EMILIO PRAGA

(1839 - 1875)

TRADUZIONI / TRANSLATIONS
from "PENOMBRE" ('Penumbrae', 1864)

ARMONIE DELLA SERA

La notte piombava dai campi celesti
e gli uomini onesti - russavano già.

Il cielo era un buio germoglio di stelle,
s'empia di fiammelle - la negra città.

Le serve ridevano di sotto alle porte;
furtiva la Morte - salia l'ospital.

Curvavansi in chiesa devoti e capoccie
sull'ultime goccie dell'acqua lustral.

Cantavan nell'ampie caserme i tamburi,
nei vicoli oscuri - coll'ansia nel cor,

i giovani imberbi battevan le traccie
di pallide faccie - di squallidi amor.

L'astronomo, insetto dell'atomo errante,
giungeva anelante - sull'ermo manier

e i bracchi annebbiavano, davanti ai camini,
gli sguardi indovini - d'un sonno legger.

Il giuoco accendevansi nei turpi ridotti;
e maghi e sedotti - con strana virtù,

già ungean nella bile dell'anima immota
la rapida ruota - del meno e del più.

Le madri, frattanto, cadean ginocchioni,
e in lunghe orazioni chiedevan pietà…

La notte piombava dai campi celesti,
e gli uomini onesti - russavano già.

HARMONIES OF THE EVENING

The night was falling from the heavens above,
and honest men - already snored.

The sky was shining, full of stars in the dark,
the lights were turned on in the city so black.

Young maids down the arcade were laughing, with mirth,
while up to the hospital - furtively went Death.

Believers in church, like cattle to the slaughter,
were holding onto the last drops of holy water.

The drums were resounding in the empty army barracks,
while through dark alleys, with anxiety attacks,

excited young men were on their beat
seeking those pale faces - squalid love of the streets.

The astronomer, an insect on planet earth,
finally reached his observatory, quite out of breath.

Dogs were lying down by the fireplaces,
with the guessing eyes of light sleep on their tired faces;

the game was getting hot down in the dives,
and losers and winners - with strange omens on their side,

were oiling in the bile of their immobile souls
the fast and loose wheel of the less and the more.

Mothers, meanwhile, kneeling on the floor,
with long prayers begged for the mercy of God.

The night was falling from the heavens above,
and honest men - already snored.

1864.