It’s a hot summer afternoon just after lunch time and, as on every other summer’s day, Maura, our next-door neighbour, appears at her bedroom window, spreads her arms wide, gets hold of le persiane (the shutters) and firmly closes them for la penichella pomeridiana (the afternoon’s nap). At this time of day the same ritual will be taking place in most houses all over Italy, as is so perfectly described in a delightful little poem by Italian poet and novelist Umberto Saba.

Umberto Saba was born in 1883 in the Mediterranean town of Trieste, which in those days was still part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Saba, whose real surname was Poli, was the son of Ugo Edoardo Poli, an Italian merchant from Venice who was working in Trieste. Saba’s father, who was catholic, had converted to Judaism in order to marry Jews Felicita Rachele Coen, whom he abandoned a few months later, before their son Umberto was born. The nom de plume ‘Saba’ is an homage to his mother’s culture, saba means ‘bread’ in Hebrew. During the years of Fascism, Umberto Saba was subjected to racial discriminations because of his religion, and was forced to find refuge first in Paris, and then in Florence, where he was protected by a group of anti-fascist intellectuals.

Throughout his adult life Saba suffered from depression and this is reflected in his literary work, which is very introspective and autobiographical. Despite his success with both critics and the public, Saba ended up almost totally isolating himself in an attempt to seek respite from the attacks of depression which became increasingly more frequent and severe. When his wife Lucia died in 1956, Umberto moved to Gorizia in the north east of Italy on the border with Slovenia. He died there a year later in 1957.

Here is Saba’s poem Meriggio d’Estate (Summer afternoon) with my English translation:

Meriggio d’Estate

Silenzio! Hanno chiuso le verdi
persiane delle case.
Non vogliono essere invase.
Troppe le fiamme
della tua gloria, o sole!
Bisbigliano appena
gli uccelli, poi tacciono, vinti
dal sonno. Sembrano estinti
gli uomini, tanto è ora pace
e silenzio… Quand’ecco da tutti
gli alberi un suono s’accorda,
un sibilo lungo che assorda,
che solo è così: le cicale.

Summer Afternoon

Silence! They’ve closed the green
shutters of the houses.
They don’t want to be invaded.
Too numerous are the flames
of your glory, oh sun!
The birds are hardly whispering,
then they are silent, defeated
by sleep. Mankind seems extinct,
it’s so peaceful
and quiet now… When suddenly
from all the trees a sound tunes up,
a long deafening hiss,
which is simply this: the cicadas.