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The
Concert
Piazza
Vittorio spreads out
smelling like an ancient market
gardens and marble benches
celebration
presses Christians
Christmas, a good opportunity
for gifts and for meals
the
street clears up by Supper
churches put up their lights
preparing Masses and choirs
in
the piazza there stay foreigners
with faces of different colours
they have no faith in the event
besides
being lonely and far-off
they hardly speak Italian
though one is ‘phoning and jumping
“a
son has just been born to me
in a far place between Africa and Asia”
the people around all start and wince
let
us wish him a happy party
let us sing him a lullaby
each of us in our language
a
Ucrain starts off with a big voice
a Chilean modulates his Spanish
an Arab aspirates a ditty
a
band forms up in short
China people tinkle plates
a Rumanian keeps harping a cymbal
an
Indian sitar echoes back
a Greek woman weaves a sirtaki
a drum from Kenia stands out
guitars
and most unusual strings
mouth-organs mixed with brass
a choir of entangled voices
a
comet arises amid domes
in the middle of the piazza there is a baby-boy
warmed up only by the sounds.
translated
by Rodolfo Longo
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