Picture: L’Enlèvement de Ganymède by Gustave Moreau
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You’ll find the English translation right below the poem’s original version in Italian.
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Babele Degli Uccelli
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Luna alta, luna disfatta
E presa, disco etterno
Di melodie incise; sì
Come vuota nell’interno,
Priva di suono o di lirica,
Lì cantan gli uccelli in latta.
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Appollaiati eppur desti,
Sognan di volare, su,
Tra le nubi nel dipinto
Della notte quasi blu;
E il lor disio è redento
Quando i canti son funesti.
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Herons
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•••••
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Babel Of The Birds
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Moon up high, moon dissolved
And curdled; æternal disc
Of engraved melodies. As if
empty on the inside,
Devoid of sound or lyricism,
There, the canned birds sing.
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Perched and yet awake,
They dream of flying, up high,
Among the clouds
Of the almost blue painting of the night.
And so their longing is redeemed,
When singing: death is nigh.
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Herons