Picture: The White Sail by Gustave Courbet
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You’ll find the English translation right below the original version in Italian.
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Barc’avvela
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Barc’avvela nel meriggio bianco
Come la spuma,
Come li fiori di prunello stanco
Di non poter brillare di pistilli al sol
In un semplice vol,
sulle onde placide de Gallesi popoli,
Dall’idioma arcaico, melodioso intrico
Di consonanze serpentine
Come da un tempo antico
di rettili e folti piumaggi
Come di gabbiani volteggianti
Bianchi d’ali, ovvero vele
Pe’ navigar lo cielo azzurro
Mai blu quanto lo profundo mare
Ove tu sguazzi,
Barc’avvela.
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Herons
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•••••
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Sailship
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Sailship, in the afternoon white,
Like the surf;
Like blackthorn blossoms of white,
Tired of the inability to shine,
Pistils in the sun, in simple flight
On the placid waters of the Cymreig,
With their ancient lingo, melodious tangle
Of serpentine consonances
As if from a distant time
Of reptiles and thick feathers,
Not unlike circling seagulls’ feathers,
White of wing, that is of sail
Made to navigate the blue heavens,
But never as blue as the deep seas
Where you leisurely dabble,
Sailship.
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Herons