A poem for our times

the train of migrants

The train of migrants

 

The migrant’s luggage

is neither big nor heavy…

 

A bit of earth from my village

makes me feel less lonely.

 

One frock, one loaf, one fruit,

that’s all I put in it.

 

But my heart, no, I didn’t bring it.

In the luggage it wouldn’t fit.

 

My heart was too sad to leave,

beyond the sea it wouldn’t dare.

 

In the land where I can’t eat,

as a loyal dog, it chose to remain:

 

in that  field, just over there…

no more I see it, too fast goes the train.

 

‘Il treno degli emigranti’, di Gianni Rodari, taken from Filastrocche in cielo e in terra (1960).

Translated by Manuela Perteghella, 2016, with thanks to Eugenia Loffredo for her suggestions.

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