{"id":10518,"date":"2015-12-02T11:29:50","date_gmt":"2015-12-02T10:29:50","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/italian\/?p=10518"},"modified":"2015-12-02T11:29:50","modified_gmt":"2015-12-02T10:29:50","slug":"timeless-emigrants-part-1","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/italian\/timeless-emigrants-part-1\/","title":{"rendered":"Timeless Emigrants – Part 1"},"content":{"rendered":"

I came across the poem Gli Emigranti<\/strong> (The Emigrants) by chance, and I was immediately struck by its timeless message. In a period when the news is flooded by images of thousands of migrants leaving their war torn countries to the apparent \u2018safety\u2019 of the west, we can forget that we Italians have also been migrants for many decades.<\/p>\n

Gli Emigranti<\/strong> was written by Edmondo De Amicis<\/strong> in 1882, at a time when thousands of Italians were emigrating to find a new life in Europe (mainly France and Germany) and America (USA, Argentina and Brazil). They mostly left from the north of Italy, in particular from Piemonte, Veneto, and Friuli Venezia-Giulia. It is estimated that between 1876 and 1900 more than 5 millions Italians left their homeland.<\/p>\n

\"Emigrazione-italiana-nel-901\"<\/a>

Italian Emigrants at the beginning of 1900<\/em><\/span><\/p><\/div>\n

Gli Emigranti is a long poem, so I’ve divided it in two parts. Here is part 1 with our translation into English:<\/p>\n

Gli Emigranti di Edmondo De Amicis<\/strong>
\nThe Emigrants by Edmondo De Amicis<\/span><\/p>\n

Cogli occhi spenti, con le guancie cave,
\npallidi, in atto addolorato e grave,
\nsorreggendo le donne affrante e smorte,
\nascendono la nave
\ncome s\u2019ascende il palco de la morte.<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

With their lifeless eyes, their empty cheeks,
\npale, with a sorrowful and grave gesture,
\nsupporting their\u00a0wan, heartbroken women,
\nthey climb aboard the ship
\nas one climbs to the gallows.<\/span><\/p>\n

E ognun sul petto trepido si serra
\ntutto quel che possiede su la terra.
\nAltri un misero involto, altri un patito
\nbimbo, che gli s\u2019afferra
\nal collo, dalle immense acque atterrito<\/strong>.<\/span><\/p>\n

And each clenches to his heart
\nall he possesses on the earth.
\nSome a pour bundle, some a suffering
\nchild, who clenches on
\nto his neck, terrified by the immense waters.<\/span><\/p>\n

Salgono in lunga fila, umili e muti,
\ne sopra i volti appar bruni e sparuti
\numido ancora il desolato affanno
\ndegli estremi saluti
\ndati ai monti che pi\u00f9 non rivedranno.<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

They climb aboard in a long line, lowly and dumb,
\nand on their dark and haggard faces
\nstill damp the sad weariness
\nof the final farewells
\nto the mountains that they’ll never see again.<\/span><\/p>\n

Salgono, e ognuno la pupilla mesta
\nsulla ricca e gentil Genova arresta,
\nintento in atto di stupor profondo,
\ncome sopra una festa
\nfisserebbe lo sguardo un moribondo.<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

They climb aboard, and each of them his sad gaze
\nrests upon Genoa, rich and gentle,
\nintent in an act of profound awe,
\nas a dying man would fix his gaze
\nupon a party.<\/span><\/p>\n

Ammonticchiati l\u00e0 come giumenti
\nsulla gelida prua morsa dai venti,
\nmigrano a terre inospiti e lontane;
\nlaceri e macilenti,
\nvarcano i mari per cercar del pane.<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

Piled up over there like beasts
\non the freezing prow bitten by the winds,
\nthey migrate to inhospitable and faraway lands;
\nragged and emaciated,
\nthey cross the seas to find bread.<\/span><\/p>\n

Traditi da un mercante menzognero,
\nvanno, oggetto di scherno allo straniero,
\nbestie da soma, dispregiati iloti,
\ncarne da cimitero,
\nvanno a campar d\u2019angoscia in lidi ignoti.<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

Betrayed by a lying merchant,
\nthey go, object of ridicule to the foreigner,
\nbeasts of burden, despised Helots,
\nmeat for the cemetery,
\nthey go and live in anguish upon unknown shores.<\/span><\/p>\n

Vanno, ignari di tutto, ove li porta
\nla fame, in terre ove altra gente \u00e8 morta;
\ncome il pezzente cieco o vagabondo
\nerra di porta in porta,
\nessi cos\u00ec vanno di mondo in mondo.<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

They go, ignorant of everything, where hunger
\nwill take them, to lands where other folk have died;
\nlike the blind or vagabond beggar
\nwanders from door to door,
\nthey move from world to world in this way.<\/span><\/p>\n

Vanno coi figli come un gran tesoro
\ncelando in petto una moneta d\u2019oro,
\nfrutto segreto d\u2019infiniti stonti,
\ne le donne con loro,
\nistupidite martiri piangenti.<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

They go with their children like a great treasure,
\nhiding in their chest a golden coin,
\nsecret fruit of endless hardships,
\nand the women with them,
\nstupefied crying martyrs.<\/span><\/p>\n

Part 2 will follow later this week.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"\"\"

I came across the poem Gli Emigranti (The Emigrants) by chance, and I was immediately struck by its timeless message. In a period when the news is flooded by images of thousands of migrants leaving their war torn countries to the apparent \u2018safety\u2019 of the west, we can forget that we Italians have also been…<\/p>\n

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