{"id":70443,"date":"2020-04-13T12:04:56","date_gmt":"2020-04-13T16:04:56","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.fluentu.com\/blog\/learn\/italian-poems\/"},"modified":"2025-01-25T05:47:05","modified_gmt":"2025-01-25T10:47:05","slug":"italian-poems","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.fluentu.com\/blog\/italian\/italian-poems\/","title":{"rendered":"15 Beautiful Italian Poems for Language Learners"},"content":{"rendered":"

Poems add a new dimension to learning a language, and they can make it much easier to remember key vocabulary. Not to mention, Italian poems are amazing\u2014<\/em>we’re talking about the language of love<\/a>, after all.<\/p>\n

In this blog post, we’ll show you 15 Italian poems that you must absolutely check out, plus some useful tips for incorporating them into your language program.<\/p>\n

[fluentu-toc skip=3]<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

\u201cNon sono in queste rive\u201d<\/em> by Torquato Tasso<\/a><\/h2>\n

This poem, written by a brilliant Renaissance poet, is a tale of love<\/a>. Learners are given an opportunity to see how basic vocabulary can be used to create something truly beautiful. Notice the way the poet compares the beauty of the poem’s subject to nature!<\/p>\n

Non sono in queste rive
\n<\/em>fiori cos\u00ec vermigli
\n<\/em>come le labbra de la donna mia,
\n<\/em>n\u00e9 \u2019l suon de l\u2019aure estive
\n<\/em>tra fonti e rose e gigli
\n<\/em>fa del suo canto pi\u00f9 dolce armonia.
\n<\/em>Canto che m\u2019ardi e piaci,
\n<\/em>t\u2019interrompano solo i nostri baci.<\/em><\/p>\n

English Translation: \u201cAre Not in These Shores\u201d<\/h3>\n

Are not in these shores
\ncrimson flowers
\nlike the lips of my lady,
\nin the sound of the summer breeze
\namidst fountains, and roses and lilies
\ndoes its song make the sweetest harmony.
\nSong that inflames, and pleases me,
\nmay you be interrupted only by our kisses.<\/p>\n

\u201cParola\u201d<\/em> by Ribka Sibhatu<\/a><\/h2>\n

“Parola”<\/em> (word) is a perfect representation of modern poetry. In both Italian and English, readers can clearly see and feel the words that empower and give substance to the mystery of women everywhere.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>Sacra Parola,
\n<\/em>misteriosa essenza,
\n<\/em>terra della straniera
\n<\/em>che girovaga!\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/em>\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

Tocca la figlia che
\n<\/em>cammina tra
\n<\/em>luci e ombra,
\n<\/em>coraggio e paura.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/em>\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

Suona melodie
\n<\/em>che danno forma
\n<\/em>al mondo
\n<\/em>a cui appartiene.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/em><\/p>\n

Parla parole ce
\n<\/em>emanano profumo
\n<\/em>e portano l’animo
\n<\/em>nel tempo e nello spazio.\u00a0 <\/em>\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

English Translation (by Andr\u00e9 Naffis-Sahely): \u201cWord\u201d<\/h3>\n

Holy word
\ninscrutable essence
\nland of the wandering
\nwoman!<\/p>\n

Touch the daughter
\nwho walks between
\nshadow and light
\ncourage and fear.<\/p>\n

Play melodies
\nthat give shape
\nto the world
\nwhere she belongs.<\/p>\n

Speak words
\nthat emit a fragrance
\nand carry the soul
\nthrough time and through space.<\/p>\n

\u201cRimani\u201d<\/em>\u00a0by Gabriele D\u2019Annunzio<\/a><\/h2>\n

Gabriele D\u2019Annunzio was a poet, playwright and journalist who had a flair for writing romance. His poem \u201cStay\u201d is a love story for the ages. In the poem, a couple begs each other not to leave, be fearful or restless. It’s a pledge to guard and watch over another, lovingly and faithfully.<\/p>\n

Rimani! Riposati accanto a me.
\n<\/em>Non te ne andare.
\n<\/em>Io ti veglier\u00f2. Io ti protegger\u00f2.
\n<\/em>Ti pentirai di tutto fuorch\u00e9 d\u2019essere venuta a me, liberamente, fieramente.
\n<\/em>Ti amo. Non ho nessun pensiero che non sia tuo;
\n<\/em>non ho nel sangue nessun desiderio che non sia per te.
\n<\/em>Lo sai. Non vedo nella mia vita altra compagna, non vedo altra gioia.
\n<\/em>Rimani.
\n<\/em>Riposati. Non temere di nulla.
\n<\/em>Dormi stanotte sul mio cuore\u2026<\/em><\/p>\n

English Translation: “Stay”<\/h3>\n

Stay! Rest beside me.
\nDo not go.
\nI will watch you. I will protect you.
\nYou’ll regret anything but coming to me, freely, proudly.
\nI love you. I do not have any thought that is not yours;
\nI have no desire in the blood that is not for you.
\nYou know. I do not see in my life another companion, I see no other joy
\nStay.
\nRest. Do not be afraid of anything.
\nSleep tonight on my heart\u2026<\/p>\n

\u201cL\u2019infinito\u201d<\/em> by Giacomo Leopardi<\/a><\/h2>\n

Many have loved this poem for its apparent simplicity and basic vocabulary, but the message certainly isn’t simple. This poem speaks to the depths of humanity and the shared feelings of all. It’s a great poem for pronunciation practice, as the words slip off the tongue effortlessly!<\/p>\n

Sempre caro mi fu quest’ermo colle,
\n<\/em>E questa siepe, che da tanta parte
\n<\/em>Dell’ultimo orizzonte il guardo esclude.
\n<\/em>Ma sedendo e mirando, interminati
\n<\/em>Spazi di l\u00e0 da quella, e sovrumani
\n<\/em>Silenzi, e profondissima quiete
\n<\/em>Io nel pensier mi fingo; ove per poco
\n<\/em>Il cor non si spaura. E come il vento
\n<\/em>Odo stormir tra queste piante, io quello
\n<\/em>Infinito silenzio a questa voce
\n<\/em>Vo comparando: e mi sovvien l’eterno,
\n<\/em>E le morte stagioni, e la presente
\n<\/em>E viva, e il suon di lei. Cos\u00ec tra questa
\n<\/em>Immensit\u00e0 s’annega il pensier mio:
\n<\/em>E il naufragar m’\u00e8 dolce in questo mare.<\/em><\/p>\n

English Translation: \u201cInfinity\u201d<\/h3>\n

Always dear to me was this still hill,
\nAnd this hedge, which in so many ways
\nOf the last horizon the look excludes.
\nBut sitting and aiming, endless
\nSpaces beyond that, and superhuman
\nSilences, and deepest quiet
\nI pretend in thinking; where for a while
\nThe heart is not afraid. And like the wind
\nI hear rustling among these plants, I that
\nInfinite silence to this voice
\nI am comparing: and the eternal comes to my mind,
\nAnd the dead seasons, and the present
\nAnd alive, and the sound of her. So between this
\nImmensity drowns my thought:
\nAnd shipwreck is sweet to me in this sea.<\/p>\n

“Ho bisogno di sentimenti”<\/em> by Alda Merini<\/a><\/h2>\n

If you like poetry, then you’ll resonate with this beautiful poem, which talks about looking for emotional richness and spiritual fulfillment through art. Alda Merini is one of the more modern poets on this list and a Nobel Prize winner, and her poems tend to be passionate, with themes like love and mental illness.\u00a0<\/p>\n

Io non ho bisogno di denaro.<\/em>
\nHo bisogno di sentimenti.<\/em>
\nDi parole, di parole scelte sapientemente,<\/em>
\ndi fiori, detti pensieri,<\/em>
\ndi rose, dette presenze,<\/em>
\ndi sogni, che abitino gli alberi,<\/em>
\ndi canzoni che faccian danzar le statue,<\/em>
\ndi stelle che mormorino all\u2019orecchio degli amanti\u2026<\/em>
\nHo bisogno di poesia,<\/em>
\nquesta magia che brucia la pesantezza delle parole,<\/em>
\nche risveglia le emozioni e d\u00e0 colori nuovi…<\/em><\/p>\n

English Translation: \u201cI Need Feelings\u201d<\/h3>\n

I do not need money.
\nI need feelings,
\nwords, words wisely chosen,
\nflowers called thoughts,
\nroses called presences,
\ndreams that inhabit the trees,
\nsongs that make statues dance,
\nstars that murmur in lovers’ ears.
\nI need poetry,
\nthis magic that burns away the heaviness of words.<\/p>\n

“Se questo \u00e8 un uomo”<\/em> by Primo Levi<\/a><\/h2>\n

Primo Levi is best known for his books about the Holocaust since he experienced being a prisoner in a concentration camp. He even wrote memoirs about it, which made “Se questo \u00e8 un uomo”<\/em><\/a> (If this is a man) an iconic phrase and launched his literary career. His first memoir includes this haunting poem:\u00a0<\/p>\n

Voi che vivete sicuri<\/em>
\nnelle vostre tiepide case,<\/em>
\nvoi che trovate tornando a sera<\/em>
\nil cibo caldo e visi amici:<\/em><\/p>\n

Considerate se questo \u00e8 un uomo<\/em>
\nche lavora nel fango<\/em>
\nche non conosce pace<\/em>
\nche lotta per mezzo pane<\/em>
\nche muore per un si o per un no.<\/em>
\nConsiderate se questa \u00e8 una donna,<\/em>
\nsenza capelli e senza nome<\/em>
\nsenza pi\u00f9 forza di ricordare<\/em>
\nvuoti gli occhi e freddo il grembo<\/em>
\ncome una rana d’inverno.<\/em><\/p>\n

Meditate che questo \u00e8 stato:<\/em>
\nvi comando queste parole.<\/em>
\nScolpitele nel vostro cuore<\/em>
\nstando in casa andando per via,<\/em>
\ncoricandovi, alzandovi.<\/em>
\nRipetetele ai vostri figli.<\/em>
\nO vi si sfaccia la casa,<\/em>
\nla malattia vi impedisca,<\/em>
\ni vostri nati torcano il viso da voi.<\/em><\/p>\n

English Translation (by Ruth Feldman and Brian Swan): \u201cIf This is a Man\u201d<\/h3>\n

You who live secure
\nIn your warm houses
\nWho return at evening to find
\nHot food and friendly faces:<\/p>\n

Consider whether this is a man,
\nWho labours in the mud
\nWho knows no peace
\nWho fights for a crust of bread
\nWho dies at a yes or a no.
\nConsider whether this is a woman,
\nWithout hair or name
\nWith no more strength to remember
\nEyes empty and womb cold
\nAs a frog in winter.<\/p>\n

Consider that this has been:
\nI commend these words to you.
\nEngrave them on your hearts
\nWhen you are in your house, when you walk on your way,
\nWhen you go to bed, when you rise.
\nRepeat them to your children.
\nOr may your house crumble,
\nDisease render you powerless,
\nYour offspring avert their faces from you.<\/p>\n

“Non so”<\/em> by Antonia Pozzi<\/a><\/h2>\n

Antonia Pozzi only became famous for her poetry after her lifetime\u2014in fact, her poems were all published after she died. Her poems often make references to nature, where she looked for solace and meaning when struggling with existential questions. The poem below uses nature imagery, like flowers, trees and gardens, to describe love:\u00a0<\/p>\n

Io penso che il tuo modo di sorridere<\/em>
\n\u00e8 pi\u00f9 dolce del sole<\/em>
\nsu questo vaso di fiori<\/em>
\ngi\u00e0 un poco<\/em>
\nappassiti \u2014<\/em><\/p>\n

penso che forse \u00e8 buono<\/em>
\nche cadano da me<\/em>
\ntutti gli alberi \u2014<\/em><\/p>\n

ch’io sia un piazzale bianco deserto<\/em>
\nalla tua voce \u2014 che forse<\/em>
\ndisegna i viali<\/em>
\nper il nuovo<\/em>
\ngiardino.\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

English Translation (by Amy Newman): \u201cI Don’t Know\u201d<\/h3>\n

I think your way of smiling
\nis sweeter than the sun
\non this vase of flowers
\nalready a little
\nfaded\u2014<\/p>\n

I think that maybe it\u2019s good
\nthat from me fall
\nall the trees\u2014<\/p>\n

That I be a white, deserted yard
\nto your voice\u2014that maybe
\ndraws the shady paths
\nfor the new
\ngarden.<\/p>\n

“Ho sceso, dandoti il braccio” <\/em>by Eugenio Montale<\/a>\u00a0<\/h2>\n

Eugenio Montale is considered one of the greatest Italian poets of the 20th century, and he was also a literary critic who wrote many essays. He dedicated this poem to his late wife, and it was quoted on social media when a famous football player died.\u00a0\u00a0<\/p>\n

Ho sceso, dandoti il braccio, almeno un milione di scale<\/em>
\ne ora che non ci sei \u00e8 il vuoto ad ogni gradino.<\/em>
\nAnche cos\u00ec \u00e8 stato breve il nostro lungo viaggio.<\/em>
\nIl mio dura tuttora, n\u00e9 pi\u00f9 mi occorrono<\/em>
\nle coincidenze, le prenotazioni,<\/em>
\nle trappole, gli scorni di chi crede<\/em>
\nche la realt\u00e0 sia quella che si vede.<\/em>
\nHo sceso milioni di scale dandoti il braccio<\/em>
\nnon gi\u00e0 perch\u00e9 con quattr\u2019occhi forse si vede di pi\u00f9.<\/em>
\nCon te le ho scese perch\u00e9 sapevo che di noi due<\/em>
\nle sole vere pupille, sebbene tanto offuscate,<\/em>
\nerano le tue.<\/em><\/p>\n

English Translation: \u201cI went down, arm in arm with you\u201d<\/h3>\n

I went down a million stairs, at least, arm in arm with you.
\nAnd now that you are not here, I feel emptiness at each step.
\nOur long journey was brief, though.
\nMine still lasts, but I don’t need
\nany more connections, reservations,
\ntraps, humiliation of those who think reality
\nis what we are used to see.<\/p>\n

I went down millions of stairs, at least, arm in arm with you,
\nand not because with four eyes we see better that with two.
\nWith you I went downstairs because I knew, among the two of us,
\nthe only real eyes, although very blurred,
\nbelonged to you.<\/p>\n

\u201cAll’anima mia\u201d<\/em> by Umberto Saba<\/a><\/h2>\n

If you’re a fan of soul-searching and introspection, this poem will appeal to you. Language learners can benefit from seeing how the poet formulates the questions driving the poem. The ending is extra special, showing that even darkness eventually gives way to sunshine and light.<\/p>\n

Dell’inesausta tua miseria godi.
\n<\/em>Tanto ti valga, anima mia, sapere;
\n<\/em>s\u00ec che il tuo male, null’altro, ti giovi.
\n<\/em>O forse avventurato \u00e8 chi s’inganna?
\n<\/em>n\u00e9 a se stesso scoprirsi ha in suo potere,
\n<\/em>n\u00e9 mai la sua sentenza lo condanna?
\n<\/em>Magnanima sei pure, anima nostra;
\n<\/em>ma per quali non tuoi casi t’esalti,
\n<\/em>s\u00ec che un bacio mentito indi ti prostra.
\n<\/em>A me la mia miseria \u00e8 un chiaro giorno
\n<\/em>d’estate, quand’ogni aspetto dagli alti
\n<\/em>luoghi discopro in ogni suo contorno.
\n<\/em>Nulla m’\u00e8 occulto; tutto \u00e8 s\u00ec vicino
\n<\/em>dove l’occhio o il pensiero mi conduce.
\n<\/em>Triste ma soleggiato \u00e8 il mio cammino;
\n<\/em>e tutto in esso, fino l’ombra, \u00e8 in luce.<\/em><\/p>\n

English Translation: \u201cTo My Soul\u201d<\/h3>\n

You delight in your unending misery.
\nSuch, my soul, should be the worth of knowledge,
\nthat your suffering alone should do you good.
\nOr is the self-deceived the lucky one?
\nHe who cannot ever know himself
\nor the sentence of his condemnation?
\nStill, my soul, you are magnanimous;
\nyet how you thrill to phantom opportunities,
\nand so are brought down by a faithless kiss.
\nTo me my misery is a bright summer
\nday, where from high up I can make out
\nevery facet, every detail of the world below.
\nNothing is obscure to me; it’s all right there,
\nwherever my eye or my mind leads me.
\nMy road is sad but brightened by the sun;
\nand everything on it, even shadow, is in light.<\/p>\n

\u201cSan Martino\u201d<\/em> by Giosu\u00e8 Carducci<\/a><\/h2>\n

Giosu\u00e8 Carducci was a poet and writer from the 19th century who won the Nobel Prize for Literature. His poem “San Martino” is very vividly written! Fun fact: St. Martin’s Day<\/a> is actually a major day in Italy with lots of wine and festivals since it traditionally marks the end of the agricultural year.\u00a0<\/p>\n

La nebbia agli irti colli
\n<\/em>piovigginando sale,
\n<\/em>e sotto il maestrale
\n<\/em>urla e biancheggia il mar;<\/em><\/p>\n

ma per le vie del borgo
\n<\/em>dal ribollir de\u2019 tini
\n<\/em>va l\u2019aspro odor dei vini
\n<\/em>l\u2019anime a rallegrar.<\/em><\/p>\n

Gira su\u2019 ceppi accesi
\n<\/em>lo spiedo scoppiettando:
\n<\/em>sta il cacciator fischiando
\n<\/em>su l\u2019uscio a rimirar<\/em><\/p>\n

tra le rossastre nubi
\n<\/em>stormi d\u2019uccelli neri,
\n<\/em>com\u2019esuli pensieri,
\n<\/em>nel vespero migrar.<\/em><\/p>\n

English Translation: “Saint Martin’s Day”<\/strong><\/h3>\n

The fog to the bare hills
\nsoars in the thin rain,
\nand below the wind
\nhowls and churns the sea;<\/p>\n

yet through the hamlet’s alleys
\nfrom the fermenting casks
\ngoes the pungent scent of wines
\nto touch a soul with glee.<\/p>\n

On the firewood, turns
\nthe skewer crackling:
\nstands the hunter whistling,
\non the threshold to see<\/p>\n

in the reddening clouds
\nflocks of black birds,
\nlike exiled thoughts
\nas in the dusk they flee.<\/p>\n

“Il<\/strong><\/em> l<\/em>ampo” <\/em>by Giovanni Pascoli<\/a><\/h2>\n

This striking poem describes a seemingly ordinary moment in nature with awe and mystery. Metaphorically, it’s also said to describe how Pascoli felt when he found out about his father’s death, who was suddenly shot by an assassin on the road. Another popular poem of his with a similar theme is “La cavalla storna.”<\/em><\/a>\u00a0<\/p>\n

E cielo e terra si mostr\u00f2 qual era:<\/em>
\nla terra ansante, livida, in sussulto;<\/em>
\nil cielo ingombro, tragico, disfatto:<\/em>
\nbianca bianca nel tacito tumulto<\/em>
\nuna casa appar\u00ec spar\u00ec d\u2019un tratto,<\/em>
\ncome un occhio, che, largo, esterrefatto,<\/em>
\ns\u2019apr\u00ec si chiuse, nella notte nera.<\/em><\/p>\n

English Translation: “The Lightning”<\/h3>\n

And sky and earth showed what they were like:
\nthe earth panting, livid, in a jolt;
\nthe sky burdened, tragic, exhausted:
\nwhite, white in the silent tumult
\na house appeared, disappeared in the blink of an eye;
\nlike an eyeball that, enlarged, horrified,
\nopened and closed itself in the pitch-black night.<\/p>\n

\u201cDivina Commedia\u201d<\/em> by Dante Alighieri<\/a><\/h2>\n

One of the greatest Italian literary masterpieces and narrative poems of all time is Dante Alighieri’s “Divina Commedia,<\/em><\/a>” which you’ve probably heard already! Written in the 14th century, it has three parts: “Inferno”<\/em> (Hell), “Purgatorio”<\/em> (Purgatory) and “Paradiso”<\/em> (Paradise). Inferno is the most widely read\u2014<\/em>here’s a passage from the third canto that describes the gates of Hell:\u00a0 \u00a0<\/p>\n

Per me si va nella citt\u00e0 dolente,<\/em>
\nper me si va nell’etterno dolore,<\/em>
\nper me si va tra la perduta gente.
\n<\/em>
\nGiustizia mosse il mio alto fattore:<\/em>
\nfecemi la divina podestate,<\/em>
\nla somma sap\u00efenza e ‘l primo amore;<\/em><\/p>\n

dinanzi a me non fuor cose create<\/em>
\nse non etterne, e io etterno duro.<\/em>
\nLasciate ogne speranza, voi ch’intrate…<\/em><\/p>\n

English Translation (by Allen Mandelbaum): “Inferno,” Canto III<\/h3>\n

Through me the way into the suffering city,
\nThrough me the way to the eternal pain,
\nThrough me the way that runs among the lost.<\/p>\n

Justice urged on my high artificer;
\nMy maker was divine authority,
\nThe highest wisdom, and the primal love.<\/p>\n

Before me nothing but eternal things
\nWere made, and I endure eternally.
\nAbandon every hope, who enter here.<\/p>\n

“Ed \u00e8 subito sera”<\/em> by Salvatore Quasimodo<\/a><\/h2>\n

Salvatore Quasimodo was another Nobel Prize winner who was recognized for his lyrical poems. This poem of his might only have three lines, but it describes the entirety of human existence. To be human is to be alone, but life also has sunshine until it eventually ends.<\/p>\n

Ognuno sta solo sul cuor della terra,<\/em>
\ntrafitto da un raggio di sole:<\/em>
\ned \u00e8 subito sera.<\/em><\/p>\n

English Translation (by Mike Towler): “And suddenly it is evening”<\/strong><\/h3>\n

Everyone stands alone at the heart of the world
\npierced by a ray of sunlight:
\nand suddenly it is evening.<\/p>\n

\u201cSoldati\u201d<\/em> by Giuseppe Ungaretti<\/a><\/h2>\n

Giuseppe Ungaretti is one of the most influential Italian poets of the 20th century, and he’s known for his minimalist style.\u00a0Having lived through being a soldier in World War I, he came up with this poem about soldiers that’s well-known among Italians. Even if it only has four lines, it’s hauntingly beautiful:<\/p>\n

Si sta come
\n<\/i>D\u2019autunno
\n<\/i>sugli alberi\u00a0
\n<\/i>le foglie.<\/i><\/p>\n

English Translation (by Greer Egan): \u201cSoldiers\u201d<\/h3>\n

We are
\nAutumnal\u00a0
\nOn the trees,\u00a0
\nAs the leaves.<\/p>\n

Bonus Poem: \u201cSonetto\u201d <\/em>by Cecco Angiolieri<\/a><\/h2>\n

This early piece of Italian poetry speaks of disillusionment, despair and destruction. In many respects, it’s still a commentary that applies to some modern issues.\u00a0<\/p>\n

The poem includes Italian words that date back to the Middle Ages and are rarely used today. Because of this, it’s challenging for non-native speakers!<\/p>\n

S\u2019i\u2019 fosse foco, ardere\u2019 il mondo;
\n<\/em>s\u2019i\u2019 fosse vento, lo tempesterei;
\n<\/em>s\u2019i\u2019 fosse acqua, io l\u2019 annegherei;
\n<\/em>s\u2019i\u2019 fosse Dio, mandereil en profondo;
\n<\/em>s\u2019i\u2019 fosse papa, sare\u2019 allor giocondo,
\n<\/em>ch\u00e9 tutti crist\u00efani imbrigherei;
\n<\/em>s\u2019i\u2019 fosse \u2019imperator, sa’ che farei?
\n<\/em>a tutti taglierei lo capo a tondo.
\n<\/em>S\u2019i\u2019 fosse morte, andarei da mio padre;
\n<\/em>s\u2019i\u2019 fosse vita, fuggirei da lui;
\n<\/em>similmente far\u00eda da mi\u2019 madre.
\n<\/em>S\u2019 i\u2019 fosse Cecco com\u2019 i\u2019 sono e fui,
\n<\/em>torrei le donne giovani e leggiadre,
\n<\/em>le vecchie e laide lasserei altrui.<\/em><\/p>\n

English Translation (by Lorna de’ Lucchi): \u201cSonetto\u201d<\/h3>\n

If I were fire, I\u2019d burn the world;
\nif wind, around about it furiously I\u2019d blow;
\nIf water, drowning it would suit my mind;
\nIf God, then I\u2019d dispatch it straight below;
\nIf I were pope, I\u2019d have a bit of fun
\nBy setting Christians one against another;
\nIf emp\u2019ror, well, what think ye I\u2019d have done?
\nAll heads chopped off, and so an end to bother!
\nI would go seek my father were I death;
\nBut were I life from him I\u2019d flee away;
\nAnd I\u2019d behave the same towards my mother;
\nIf Cecco, as I am and draw my breath,
\nI\u2019d choose such ladies as are young and gay.
\nLeaving the old and ugly to another.<\/p>\n

Tips for Using Italian Poems in Your Program<\/h2>\n

Thanks to their short verses, Italian poems can be faster to read<\/a> and memorize compared to other materials. They’re also excellent resources for pronunciation practice, and reading the luxurious passages will make you feel like a real Roman.<\/p>\n

Try putting these tips into practice:<\/p>\n