Journal of Italian Translation - Brooklyn College - Academic Home ...

Charles Sant’Elia / Luciano Somma
that is in the air and runs in the veins
suddenly like folly,
it covers over the mind, it dims the eyes and love!
This life is truly nothing
and too often is a « no parking » zone
a tow truck arrives swaggering
to take it away from you before you’ve lived it.
Only then will there be a hand
that above divides the good from the bad
in heaven or in hell, so slowly,
to really do justice, finally.
Here on earth it is only a halter around the neck
to go up this long flight of steps
where the ascent is hard and the heart is left breathless
where often there is: « no parking ».
* Translator’s note: camorra, Neapolitan organised crime.
WHAT COULD IT BE
For this city, that appears deconsecrated,
Often there are parkways of thorns
where ancient and never healed wounds
wait and never find the end.
Deep is the pain, and how bitter it tastes,
in the calvary of the agitated soul,
where this life is ever more cruel
and now without the light of God it is damned.
And what does God do? Doesn’t he see andhear us?
But what does it cost Him to do extend a hand
to this mass of humanity that is the most beggarly
that is tired of waiting for tomorrow...
While in the children’s crying
sad is the lament, it never ends,
like little angels with sorrowful little faces
they drown in a sea of woes.
In their dreams they squeeze their little hands
seeking to distance all their fears
they would like to fly with tiny wings
but they bang their heads against the walls.
They awake trembling every morning
with the usual portrait before their eyes
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