| LIMBA | TONGUE |
| Antonella Anedda |
trans. Jamie McKendrick (from the Sardinian dialect) |
|
Non tenes baùle 'e istrisinare in supr'e nie Ma unu cane a trémula in s'iscuriù. Limba-matre ses triste. S'azu s'inniéddigat in sa sarràine. Sa mùghit'anziat. Sos ventos si coffundent. Eolo survat et Babele s'isparghet. Fiza-limba tràchitas a ghineperu. Una tremita tua naschinde est ch'astula de livrina in mes'a isteddos et sas nues, sas nues a sa thurpas fughint iscanzellande dae chelu onzi zenìas. |
You own no coffin to drag across the snow, just a dog shivering in the dark. Mother-tongue you're heavyhearted; garlic blackens in the copper pan. A low drone rises from the hearth. Winds tangle throughter all confused. Aeolus blows but Babel's left alive. Daughter-tongue: creak of the juniper. Your shudder at birth's a shard chipped off a storm among the planets and the clouds, the clouds blindly race obliterating from the skies all trace of lineage. |
Copyright © Antonella Anedda 2006, trans. copyright © Jamie McKendrick 2006; publ. Modern Poetry in Translation III.4