2
And one from my ancestral area in Lazio. Interesting to note that in this dialect there is no "v" sound, a holdover from Classical Latin.
Sora nostra, by Luigi Conocchia
Quanne la juna chiena esce redenne
arret'a chiste circhie de mentagne
e se specchia ent'a sciume e lle campagne
agliumenate, comm'ì sole, rrenne,
Sante Casteche, sule 'ncim' a tutte
ficca la ciocca 'mmes' a lle serine,
e pare n' giacante - Au' destrutte
ogne ccòsa - isse dice - è uere cine,
Ma, se resta de me sule 'na preta
ì pozze sempe recuntà i' ualore
del lla gente passata! - 'Ne pueta
remaste a reuarda' 'ncim' glie ponte,
diciarria ca la notte ciume e monte
se scagnate 'ne bbace tutt'ammore!
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When the full moon rises laughing
behind this ring of mountains
and reflects off the river and the countryside
it renders bright like the sun,
Only San Casto* is above us all
the top piercing the clear sky,
and seems like a giant – They destroyed
everything – he says – certainly it's true,
But if you left me only a stone
I will be able to tell of the virtues
of the people of the past! – A poet
which will stay looking out from the bridge,
would say that the night and the river and the mountain
exchange a kiss of true love!
*San Casto is the name of the castle overlooking the town of Sora.
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