{"id":18172,"date":"2019-05-09T11:58:23","date_gmt":"2019-05-09T09:58:23","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/italian\/?p=18172"},"modified":"2019-05-09T11:58:23","modified_gmt":"2019-05-09T09:58:23","slug":"la-parola-piu-bella","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/italian\/la-parola-piu-bella\/","title":{"rendered":"La Parola Pi\u00f9 Bella"},"content":{"rendered":"

On the second Sunday of May, like many other countries around the world, we celebrate la Festa della Mamma<\/strong> (Mothering Sunday).<\/span><\/p>\n

In Italy this festival was first introduced as a business enterprise in 1956 at Bordighera<\/strong>, a town situated on the Ligurian coast, famous for the commerce of ornamental flowers. La Festa della Mamma<\/strong> was so successful that in 1958 it was made an official national festival.<\/p>\n

At this latitude, May is the month when many plants are in full blossom, and so it’s natural that flowers, particularly roses, play an important role in la Festa della Mamma<\/strong>.<\/p>\n

Here in Lunigiana<\/strong> however, the flower of choice is la giunchiglia<\/strong> (the wild daffodil) which grows profusely amongst the foothills of the Appennino Tosco-Emiliano<\/strong> mountains. In fact at this time of year these beautifully scented white flowers are in full blossom in the nearby Prati di Logarghena<\/strong> (Meadows of Logarghena), which lie at around 1000 meters (3,280 ft.) altitude. It’s an amazing sight: vast expanses of pasture land spangled by these gentle white flowers.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>

Wild daffodils on i Prati di Logarghena, Lunigiana. Photo by Geoff.<\/em><\/span><\/p><\/div>\n

Happily, le giunchiglie<\/strong> are now a protected species, and cannot be picked. So instead of giving mia mamma<\/strong> a bunch of wild daffodils I’m going to dedicate to her a nice little poem called La Parola Pi\u00f9 Bella<\/strong> (The Most Beautiful Word), written by the poet Marino Moretti<\/strong> (1885-1979), who was one the main members of the Italian literary movement known as il Crepuscolarismo<\/strong> (lit. the Twilight<\/em>).<\/p>\n

Here’s the poem followed by my English translation:<\/p>\n

La Parola Pi\u00f9 Bella, di Marino Moretti<\/span><\/span> <\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

Mamma. Nessuna parola \u00e8 pi\u00f9 bella.<\/strong><\/span>
\nLa prima che si impara,<\/strong><\/span>
\nla prima che si capisce e che s’ama.<\/strong><\/span>
\nLa prima di una lunga serie di parole<\/strong><\/span>
\ncon cui s’\u00e8 risposto alle infinite,<\/strong><\/span>
\nalle amorose, timorose domande<\/strong><\/span>
\ndella maternit\u00e0.<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

E anche se diventassimo vecchi,<\/strong><\/span>
\ncome chiameremmo la mamma<\/strong><\/span>
\npi\u00f9 vecchia di noi?<\/strong><\/span>
\nMamma.<\/strong><\/span>
\nNon c’\u00e8 un altro nome.<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

The Most Beautiful Word, by Marino Moretti<\/span><\/span> <\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

Mother. No other word is more beautiful.<\/em><\/span>
\nThe first that we learn,<\/em><\/span>
\nthe first that we understand and love.<\/em><\/span>
\nThe first of a long series of words,<\/em><\/span>
\nwith which we have answered the infinite,<\/em><\/span>
\nloving, apprehensive questions<\/em><\/span>
\nof maternity.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

And even if we should become old,<\/em><\/span>
\nwhat would we call our mother<\/em><\/span>
\nwho is older than us?<\/em><\/span>
\nMother.<\/em><\/span>
\nThere is no other name.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

You may also enjoy this post: <\/span>Wild Daffodils<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"\"\"

On the second Sunday of May, like many other countries around the world, we celebrate la Festa della Mamma (Mothering Sunday). In Italy this festival was first introduced as a business enterprise in 1956 at Bordighera, a town situated on the Ligurian coast, famous for the commerce of ornamental flowers. La Festa della Mamma was…<\/p>\n

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