Old Winter

Desire for your fair hands
In the half-light of the flame:
I learn of the bay oaks, of the roses;
Of death. Old winter.

The birds looked for the grain
And were suddenly in snow;
Like utterances.
A little sun, a shining angel,
And then the fog; and the trees
And we became air in the morning.

'Antico Inverno' translated from Italian by Salvatore Quasimodo.

Note: the literal translation of 'antico' is clearly ancient however, the English word 'old' is a better substitute here in order to maintain Salvatore Quasimodo's musicality.

by Claire Roberts

Other poems of ROBERTS (1)

Comments (4)

The Italian text: Antico inverno (by Salvatore Quasimodo) Desiderio delle tue mani chiare nella penombra della fiamma: sapevano di rovere e di rose; di morte. Antico inverno. Cercavano il miglio gli uccelli ed erano subito di neve; così le parole. Un po' di sole, una raggera d'angelo, e poi la nebbia; e gli alberi, e noi fatti d'aria al mattino. the verse: sapevano di rovere e di rose; / di morte.. = Quasimodo, here, describes a feeling.. a scent / smell then you cant translate it I learn of the bay oaks, of the roses; / Of death... But I really appreciate your generous effort to translate this beautiful poem into English Ciao Fabrizio
Well written. God bless you
Good poetry. Thanks for sharing
Nice poem, I like it, thanks for sharing