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Sono nata il ventuno a primavera
ma non sapevo che nascere folle,
aprire le zolle
potesse scatenar tempesta.
Così Proserpina lieve
vede piovere sulle erbe,
sui grossi frumenti gentili
e piange sempre la sera.
Forse è la sua preghiera.



I was born in spring the twenty first
not knowing that to be born insane,
to open the turfs
a tempest could unchain.
And thus gentle Proserpina
sees rain fall upon the grasses,
upon the large gentle wheat
and always weeps at night.
Perhaps it is her prayer.

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