Dalle mie amiche del nord mi è stata richiesta la traduzione della poesia (ma dico io...!).
Ma siccome io alle mie amiche ci tengo, eccole accontentate...... Il gelsomino della signora Maruzzedda
Da bambina io cantavo
affacciata al balcone
fra il basilico e il rampicante
e mi sentivo una cantante vera.
Il pubblico di sicuro non mi mancava,
i vicini di casa mi dicevano: “brava!”
ed io cantavo ancora più contenta.
Ero felice e spensierata.
Mia mamma mi cuciva i vestitini.
Mio fratello disegnava macchinine.
Mio padre that hugs me and kisses me
and says, "You're the party in this house!"
The street was a theater and everyone
We were actors and the paying public.
the sun comes up and the curtain rises
... ... and lights up the whole scenario.
The stone arch, the courtyard, the well.
sings a bird in a cage.
white sheets spread out in the wind.
The smell of the air feel yet.
Who would clean their front door,
who sold eggs in one basket, there were those who renewed
yeast,
who was talking without doing anything.
Jasmine's aunt Maruzzedda
perfume filled the whole
Gnazzidda alley and aunt with her daughters in front of the door ladies
worked jersey. The ladies were several
And the talk never ended ...! Each
believed to be the most beautiful and most desired
alley. When he passed some young
not tell you what happened ...
"mom, but for those who pass that guy?
looked at her. No ... look at me! "
Then there was always the nosy
who spoke ill of all passers
..." look at that as he walks proud,
seem a saint, and it has a lover! "
Aunt Vitidda, of next door,
you put the jacket down.
My mother told her: "Do not you noticed?"
She: "Guest Appearance" and then laughed.
Milec The boys were playing, the girls instead
blind man's buff, but all
entice us to look at my father when he began to paint.
In the courtyard wall was right
and he served as a tripod.
A chair, brushes, colors,
Everything was ready for painting.
A large wall-mounted towel
from morning till evening and all
Sciacca
sea view from the top floor you could appear.
are other times, but the past
in my heart everything is drawn.
and smells of my childhood
I keep them locked in a jar.
Now, every time, when light
I smell the jasmine,
all returns. I feel nostalgia.
But it is only a part of my life!
