Winter Noon
At that moment when I was happy
(God forgive me the word so vast,
so tremendous), who drove almost to tears
my brief joy? You will say, some
beautiful creature passing
who smiled. No, a balloon instead,
a stray blue balloon
in the blue air, and my native
sky as never before, clear and cold,
noon winter resplendent
sky with some white clouds
and the windows of the houses, sun blazing,
tenuous smoke from one or two chimneys,
the divine in every
thing, globe by the incautious hand
of a child escaped. He cried
in the crowd, his pain
his great pain in Stock
Exchange Square, where I sat in a café
admiring through the glass with shining
eyes the climb or fall of its goodness.
(Translated from the Italian by Paula Bohince)
Mezzogiorno d’inverno
In quel momento ch’ero già felice
(Dio mi perdoni la parola grande
e tremenda) chi quasi al pianto spinse
mia breve gioia? Voi direte: “Certa
bella creatura che di là passava,
e ti sorrise”. Un palloncino invece,
un turchino vagante palloncino
nell’azzurro dell’aria, ed il nativo
cielo non mai come nel chiaro e freddo
mezzogiorno d’inverno risplendente.
Cielo con qualche nuvoletta bianca,
e i vetri delle case al sol fiammanti,
e il fumo tenue d’uno due camini,
e su tutte le cose, le divine
cose, quel globo dalla mano incauta
d’un fanciullo sfuggito (egli piangeva
certo in mezzo alla folla il suo dolore,
il suo grande dolore) tra il Palazzo
della Borsa e il Caffé dove seduto
oltre i vetri ammiravo io con lucenti
occhi or salire or scendere il suo bene.
Umberto Saba (1883-1957) was born as Umberto Poli in Trieste and became one of the most important figures in Italian Twentieth Century poetry. He also wrote prose and served as a soldier in World War I. He died in Gorizia, Italy.
Paula Bohince is the author of three poetry collections, including Swallows and Waves (Sarabande, Jan. 2016). Her translations from the Italian have appeared in The Kenyon Review, Agni, PN Review, and the Journal of Italian Translation. She lives in Pennsylvania.