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dialect poetry

'A NOSTRA CANZUNA

Passa lu tempu

codda lu suli

Ritorna l'alba 

e si specchia nto mari

Torna a pinsari

Senza duluri

S'apri lu cori

chi voli cantari

E' a nostra canzuna

Canta la storia

di tutta la genti

Canta la vita

Passatu e prisenti

E si tu scavi 

'nta la to' menti

Lu to' passatu

Vicinu lu senti

E' a nostra canzuna

Cultural Group The Alternative

Maestro Angelo Accordino

Gloryholes On Long Island.

Ernest Hyde

My mind was a mirror

saw what he saw, he knew what he knew.

In youth my mind was like a mirror

of a fast race car,

that captures and disperses the features of the landscape now. Then in time

produced deep scratches on the mirror, including creeping

the outside world,

and I emerged my most secret.

E 'this is the nascta del'anima in pain, made up of a birth

gains and losses.

The mind sees the world as something separate

and soul makes one with herself.

A mirror scratched reflects no image -

and this is the silence of wisdom.

Edgar Lee Masters' Spoon River Anthology "