libero bovio

The best poetry is readable speech. And no poetry sounds more spoken than dialect poetry. A great example of this in English is hip hop, famous for its new words (bling), new uses of words (crib), and new spellings (gangstaz) - all in fidelity to the street speech of Brooklyn and Compton, which rappers have spread all over the world and preserved in their recordings for generations to come.

Italy too has a long and rich tradition of dialect poetry. In fact some of the earliest poems from Italy were written in Sicilian. In the late 1800s and early 1900s an amazing flowering of dialect literature took place in and around Napoli. Because of the plays, musicals and above all songs this flowering produced, Neapolitan (napoletano) is today Italy's best known dialect, both at home and abroad. Many of Italy's top pop stars - and Pavarotti and Bocelli too - routinely sing from the Neapolitan songbook. And actor Massimo Troisi (of Il Postino fame) used napoletano liberally in his hugely popular films.

Today's great Italian is a poet who contributed to the napoletano renaissance of the early 20th century some of its best loved and most memorable lyrics - Libero Bovio. To read his bio, click on the link and scroll down a bit.

Lacreme napulitane

by Libero Bovio

Mia cara madre,
sta pe' trasí Natale,
e a stá luntano cchiù mme sape amaro....
Comme vurría allummá duje o tre biangale...
comme vurría sentí nu zampugnaro!...

A 'e ninne mieje facitele 'o presebbio
e a tavula mettite 'o piatto mio...
facite, quann'è 'a sera d''a Vigilia,
comme si 'mmiez'a vuje stesse pur'io...

E nce ne costa lacreme st'America
a nuje Napulitane!...
Pe' nuje ca ce chiagnimmo 'o cielo 'e Napule,
comm'è amaro stu ppane!

Mia cara madre,
che só', che só' 'e denare?
Pe' chi se chiagne 'a Patria, nun só' niente!
Mo tengo quacche dollaro, e mme pare
ca nun só' stato maje tanto pezzente!

Mme sonno tutt''e nnotte 'a casa mia
e d''e ccriature meje ne sento 'a voce...
ma a vuje ve sonno comm'a na "Maria"...
cu 'e spade 'mpietto, 'nnanz'ô figlio 'ncroce!

E nce ne costa lacreme st'America
a nuje Napulitane!...
Pe' nuje ca ce chiagnimmo 'o cielo 'e Napule,
comm'è amaro stu ppane!

Mm'avite scritto
ch'Assuntulella chiamma
chi ll'ha lassata e sta luntana ancora...
Che v'aggi''a dí? Si 'e figlie vònno 'a mamma,
facítela turná chella "signora".

Io no, nun torno...mme ne resto fore
e resto a faticá pe' tuttuquante.
I', ch'aggio perzo patria, casa e onore,
i' só' carne 'e maciello: Só' emigrante!

E nce ne costa lacreme st'America
a nuje Napulitane!...
Pe' nuje ca ce chiagnimmo 'o cielo 'e Napule,
comm'è amaro stu ppane!