{"id":14093,"date":"2017-05-12T14:39:03","date_gmt":"2017-05-12T12:39:03","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/italian\/?p=14093"},"modified":"2017-05-12T20:56:21","modified_gmt":"2017-05-12T18:56:21","slug":"a-poem-for-mothers-day","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/italian\/a-poem-for-mothers-day\/","title":{"rendered":"A Poem For Mother’s Day"},"content":{"rendered":"

In Italy, on the second Sunday of May, we celebrate la Festa della Mamma<\/strong> (Mother’s Day). This is a fairly new festival, having been ‘imported’ into Italy from America after the Second World War.<\/span><\/p>\n

I’ve found a very appropriate poem for the occasion by Edmondo De Amicis<\/strong><\/a><\/span> (1846-1908) for his mother. It’s called Se Fossi Pittore<\/strong> (If I Were A Painter).<\/p>\n

\"\"

Ritratto della Madre, di Giacomo Balla<\/em><\/span><\/p><\/div>\n

Se Fossi Pittore<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Non sempre il tempo la belt\u00e0 cancella<\/strong>
\n o la sfioran le lacrime e gli affanni:<\/strong>
\n mia madre ha sessant’anni,<\/strong>
\n e pi\u00f9 la guardo e pi\u00f9 mi sembra bella.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Time doesn’t always delete beauty
\nor tears and worries blemish it:
\nmy mother is sixty years old,
\nand the more I look at her the more beautiful she seems.<\/p>\n

Non ha un accenno, un guardo, un riso, un atto<\/strong>
\n che non mi tocchi dolcemente il core;<\/strong>
\n ah, se fossi pittore,<\/strong>
\n farei tutta la vita il suo ritratto!<\/strong><\/p>\n

She has no allusion, no look, no laugh, no gesture
\nwhich doesn’t sweetly touch my heart;
\nah, if I were a painter,
\nI would paint her portrait all life long!<\/p>\n

Vorrei ritrarla quando china il viso<\/strong>
\n perch’io le baci la sua treccia bianca,<\/strong>
\n o quando, inferma e stanca,<\/strong>
\n nasconde il suo dolor sotto un sorriso<\/strong><\/p>\n

I’d like to portray her when she lowers her face
\nso that I may kiss her white braid,
\nor when, ill and weary,
\nshe hides her pain beneath a smile.<\/p>\n

Pur, se fosse il mio priego in ciel accolto,<\/strong>
\n non chiederei del gran pittor d’Urbino<\/strong>
\n il pennello divino<\/strong>
\n per coronar di gloria il suo bel volto;<\/strong><\/p>\n

Yet, if my prayer was in heaven granted,
\nI would not ask for the divine brush
\nof the great painter from Urbino
\nto crown with glory her beautiful face;<\/p>\n

vorrei poter cangiar vita con vita,<\/strong>
\n darle tutto il vigor degli anni miei,<\/strong>
\n veder me vecchio, e lei<\/strong>
\n dal sacrificio mio ringiovanita.<\/strong><\/p>\n

I’d like to swap life with life,
\ngive her all the strength of my years,
\nsee myself old, and her
\nrejuvenated by my sacrifice.<\/p>\n

Buona Festa della Mamma!<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"\"\"

In Italy, on the second Sunday of May, we celebrate la Festa della Mamma (Mother’s Day). This is a fairly new festival, having been ‘imported’ into Italy from America after the Second World War. I’ve found a very appropriate poem for the occasion by Edmondo De Amicis (1846-1908) for his mother. It’s called Se Fossi…<\/p>\n

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