Do you want to learn some of the best short Italian poems? You’re in the right place.
When we hear “la poesia italiana,” more often than not, the first thing that comes to mind is Dante Alighieri’s “The Divine Comedy.”
However, Italian poetry is not all about Dante or “The Divine Comedy.”
Italian poetry traces its roots back to the 13th century. It has heavily influenced the poetic traditions of numerous European languages, including English. Like, did you know that an Italian poet is believed to have invented the sonnet? His name was Giacomo da Lentini, aka Il Notaro, aka Jacopo da Lentini.
Italy has produced a number of famous poets whose poems continue to remain significant in Italy these days.
12 Best Short Italian Poems
• ALSO READ: 10 Beautiful Italian Love Poems
Here’s a list of 12 best short Italian poems with English translations.
1. “Soldati”
Author: Giuseppe Ungaretti
Year Published: 1918
English Title: “Soldiers”
This short Italian poem talks about the equally short life on the battlefield. Here Giuseppe Ungaretti likens soldiers to the falling and decay of leaves in autumn.
“Soldati“
Si sta come
d’autunno
sugli alberi
le foglie.
“Soldiers”
We are as
in autumn
on branches
the leaves.
2. “San Martino”
Author: Giosuè Carducci
Year Published: 1883
English Title: “Saint Martin’s Day”
Regarded as the official national poet of modern Italy, Giosuè Carducci became the first Italian to receive the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1906.
In “San Martino,” Giosuè Carducci describes the colors, the sounds, and even the odors of village life on an autumn’s day.
“San Martino”
La nebbia agli irti colli
piovigginando sale,
e sotto il maestrale
urla e biancheggia il mar;
ma per le vie del borgo
dal ribollir de’ tini
va l’aspro odor dei vini
l’anime a rallegrar.
Gira su’ ceppi accesi
lo spiedo scoppiettando:
sta il cacciator fischiando
su l’uscio a rimirar
tra le rossastre nubi
stormi d’uccelli neri,
com’esuli pensieri,
nel vespero migrar.
“Saint Martin’s Day”
The fog to the steep hills
amid the rain ascends,
and under the mistral
the sea screams and whitens;
but through the alleys of the village
from the bubbling vats
goes the sour smell of wine
the souls to rejoice.
Turns on burning logs
the spit, sputtering;
stands the hunter whistling
on the door to gaze
among the reddish clouds
flocks of blackbirds
as exiled thoughts,
in the twilight migrating.
3. “Rimani”
Author: Gabriele D’Annunzio
Year Published: 1896
English Title: “Stay”
Gabriele D’Annunzio, one of the most striking personalities in Italy of his time, lived a scandal- and controversy-clad life.
His poems are considered to be among the modern masterpieces of Italian poetry. A playwright and journalist, he also had a flair for writing romance.
The short Italian poem “Rimani” is a love story in which a couple pledges to guard and watch over another with love and faith.
“Rimani”
Rimani! Riposati accanto a me.
Non te ne andare.
Io ti veglierò. Io ti proteggerò.
Ti pentirai di tutto fuorché d’essere venuta a me, liberamente, fieramente.
Ti amo. Non ho nessun pensiero che non sia tuo;
non ho nel sangue nessun desiderio che non sia per te.
Lo sai. Non vedo nella mia vita altra compagna, non vedo altra gioia.
Rimani.
Riposati. Non temere di nulla.
Dormi stanotte sul mio cuore…
“Stay”
Stay! Rest beside me.
Do not go.
I will watch you. I will protect you.
You’ll regret anything but coming to me, freely, proudly.
I love you. I do not have any thought that is not yours;
I have no desire in the blood that is not for you.
You know. I do not see in my life another companion, I see no other joy
Stay.
Rest. Do not be afraid of anything.
Sleep tonight on my heart…
4. “La gatta”
Author: Giovanni Pascoli
Year Published: 1885
English Title: “The Cat”
“La gatta” is a heartbreaking Italian poem about boundless maternal love.
Giovanni Pascoli maintains a somber tone in the stanzas following the cat’s farewell to her dead kitten. Here the poet describes the climate and environment that reflect the mother cat’s pain.
However, “La gatta” ends on a softened note, with the image of the deceased kitten purring happy and warm.
“La gatta”
Era una gatta, assai trita, e non era
d’alcuno, e, vecchia, aveva un suo gattino.
Ora, una notte, (su per il camino
s’ingolfava e rombava la bufera)
trassemi all’uscio il suon d’una preghiera,
e lei vidi e il suo figlio a lei vicino.
Mi spinse ella, in un dolce atto, il meschino
tra’ piedi; e sparve nella notte nera.
Che notte nera, piena di dolore!
Pianti e singulti e risa pazze e tetri
urli portava dai deserti il vento.
E la pioggia cadea, vasto fragore,
sferzando i muri e scoppiettando ai vetri.
Facea le fusa il piccolo, contento.
“The Cat”
There was a cat, very trite, and it wasn’t
Anybodies, and, old, it had its kitten.
Now, one night, (up the chimney
the storm gushed and roared)
the sound of a prayer drew me to the door
And I saw her and her kit next to her
She sweetly pushed the wretched thing
Between my feet and disappeared into the black night.
What a black night, full of pain!
Tears and sobs and mad laughter and dark
Howls brought in from the desert wind.
And the rain was falling, huge roars
Whipping the house walls and rattling the windows.
The little one was purring, contented.
5. “L’infinito”
Author: Giacomo Leopardi
Year Published: 1819
English Title: “Infinity”
Giacomo Leopardi wrote “L’infinito” in 1819. Widely known within Italy, the poem was spawned by the poet’s desire to travel the world.
There is also a keen sense of mortality throughout this Italian poem, which is said to indicate Leopardi’s belief that he would die young. And he did pass on at only 38 years old.
“L’infinito”
Sempre caro mi fu quest’ermo colle,
E questa siepe, che da tanta parte
Dell’ultimo orizzonte il guardo esclude.
Ma sedendo e mirando, interminati
Spazi di là da quella, e sovrumani
Silenzi, e profondissima quiete
Io nel pensier mi fingo; ove per poco
Il cor non si spaura. E come il vento
Odo stormir tra queste piante, io quello
Infinito silenzio a questa voce
Vo comparando: e mi sovvien l’eterno,
E le morte stagioni, e la presente
E viva, e il suon di lei. Così tra questa
Immensità s’annega il pensier mio:
E il naufragar m’è dolce in questo mare.
“Infinity”
Always dear to me was this still hill,
And this hedge, which in so many ways
Of the last horizon the look excludes.
But sitting and aiming, endless
Spaces beyond that, and superhuman
Silences, and deepest quiet
I pretend in thinking; where for a while
The heart is not afraid. And like the wind
I hear rustling among these plants, I that
Infinite silence to this voice
I am comparing: and the eternal comes to my mind,
And the dead seasons, and the present
And alive, and the sound of her. So between this
Immensity drowns my thought:
And shipwreck is sweet to me in this sea.
6. “All’anima mia”
Author: Umberto Saba
Year Published: 1911
English Title: “To My Soul”
Umberto Saba, known for his his simple, lyrical autobiographical poems, suffered from depression all his adult life. This is seen in “All’anima mia.” It is a sad poem, though the poet managed to give it a positive ending, showing the clarity in misery and the light in darkness.
“All’anima mia”
Dell’inesausta tua miseria godi.
Tanto ti valga, anima mia, sapere;
sì che il tuo male, null’altro, ti giovi.
O forse avventurato è chi s’inganna?
né a se stesso scoprirsi ha in suo potere,
né mai la sua sentenza lo condanna?
Magnanima sei pure, anima nostra;
ma per quali non tuoi casi t’esalti,
sì che un bacio mentito indi ti prostra.
A me la mia miseria è un chiaro giorno
d’estate, quand’ogni aspetto dagli alti
luoghi discopro in ogni suo contorno.
Nulla m’è occulto; tutto è sì vicino
dove l’occhio o il pensiero mi conduce.
Triste ma soleggiato è il mio cammino;
e tutto in esso, fino l’ombra, è in luce.
“To My Soul”
You delight in your unending misery.
Such, my soul, should be the worth of knowledge,
that your suffering alone should do you good.
Or is the self-deceived the lucky one?
He who cannot ever know himself
or the sentence of his condemnation?
Still, my soul, you are magnanimous;
yet how you thrill to phantom opportunities,
and so are brought down by a faithless kiss.
To me my misery is a bright summer
day, where from high up I can make out
every facet, every detail of the world below.
Nothing is obscure to me; it’s all right there,
wherever my eye or my mind leads me.
My road is sad but brightened by the sun;
and everything on it, even shadow, is in light.
7. “S’i’ fosse foco”
Author: Cecco Angiolieri
Year Published: around late 13th century – early 14th century
English Title: “If I Were Fire”
The short Italian poem “S’i’ fosse foco” is an anti-paternal sonnet in which Cecco Angiolieri ridicules the figures of God, the pope, the emperor, the parents, and all honest people.
“S’i’ fosse foco”
S’i’ fosse foco, ardere’ il mondo;
s’i’ fosse vento, lo tempesterei;
s’i’ fosse acqua, io l’ annegherei;
s’i’ fosse Dio, mandereil en profondo;
s’i’ fosse papa, sare’ allor giocondo,
ché tutti cristïani imbrigherei;
s’i’ fosse ’imperator, sa’ che farei?
a tutti taglierei lo capo a tondo.
S’i’ fosse morte, andarei da mio padre;
s’i’ fosse vita, fuggirei da lui;
similmente faría da mi’ madre.
S’ i’ fosse Cecco com’ i’ sono e fui,
torrei le donne giovani e leggiadre,
le vecchie e laide lasserei altrui.
“If I Were Fire”
If I were fire, I’d burn the world;
if wind, around about it furiously I’d blow;
If water, drowning it would suit my mind;
If God, then I’d dispatch it straight below;
If I were Pope, I’d have a bit of fun
By setting Christians one against another;
If emp’ror, well, what think ye I’d have done?
All heads chopped off, and so an end to bother!
I would go seek my father were I death;
But were I life from him I’d flee away;
And I’d behave the same towards my mother;
If Cecco, as I am and draw my breath,
I’d choose such ladies as are young and gay.
Leaving the old and ugly to another.
8. “Il lampo”
Author: Giovanni Pascoli
Year Published: 1894
English Title: “The Lightning”
Giovanni Pascoli often uses natural phenomena to describe the mood of his writing pieces. In the Italian poem “Il lampo,” he captures the landscape at the onset of a storm, which is illuminated by a flash of lightning before it is dark again.
“Il lampo”
E cielo e terra si mostrò qual era:
la terra ansante, livida, in sussulto;
il cielo ingombro, tragico, disfatto:
bianca bianca nel tacito tumulto
una casa apparì sparì d’un tratto;
come un occhio, che, largo, esterrefatto,
s’aprì si chiuse, nella notte nera.
“The Lightning”
And sky and earth showed what they were like:
the earth panting, livid, in a jolt;
the sky burdened, tragic, exhausted:
white white in the silent tumult
a house appeared disappeared in the blink of an eye;
like an eyeball, that, enlarged, horrified,
opened and closed itself, in the pitch-black night.
9. “Temporale Estivo”
Author: Federigo Tozzi
Year Published: 1911
English Title: “Summer Storm”
Federigo Tozzi, an inkeeper’s son, came to be considered one of the first Italian modernists after his death. His concise and laconic style is seen in this summer-inspired poem.
True to Tozzi’s style, the Italian poem “Temporale Estivo” is an example of his ability to describe great tragedies using simple words.
“Temporale Estivo”
Le nuvole grigie e nere si urtano,
si pigiano spinte dal vento, nascondono
il s see sole, oscurano il cielo.
Ci son ancora, qua e là, lembi d’azzurro,
ma vanno facendosi sempre più piccoli,
sempre più radi.
Ecco un lampo: guizza, abbaglia,
sembra incendi il cielo.
Poi scoppia il tuono.
Un tonfo forte, un brontolio lungo.
I passeri si rifugiano
sotto i tegoli, le rondini volano basse,
senza stridi.
Cadono le prime gocce d’acqua, si fanno
fitte, sembrano grossi aghi lucenti.
Poi la pioggia scroscia impetuosa.
“Summer Storm”
The gray and black clouds collide,
they squeeze one another, pushed by the wind, hiding
the sun, obscuring the sky.
There are still, here and there, strips of blue,
but they are becoming smaller and smaller,
more and more sparse.
Here’s a flash: it darts, it dazzles,
It seems to set the sky on fire.
Then the thunder bursts.
A loud thud, a long rumbling.
Sparrows take refuge
under the shingles, the swallows fly low
without screeching.
The first drops of water fall, they become
dense, they look like thick, bright needles.
Then the rain pelts down impetuously.
10. “Tulipani”
Poet: Antonia Pozzi
Year Published: 1939
English Title: “Tulips”
Antonia Pozzi is deemed one of the most interesting voices in Italian poetry of the 1920s and 1930s. All her poems were published posthumously.
“Tulipani” is one of Pozzi’s 91 Italian poems that her father revised and published a year after she died by her own hand.
“Tulipani”
Sei tulipani, sul tavolino dirimpetto,
tre scuri e tre chiari,
improvvisi imbizzarrimenti degli steli rari:
ciascuno un linguacciuto sboccio di violetto,
inarcato nel vuoto, pesantemente,
come un’effusione di tristezza inconcludente.
“Tulips”
Six tulips, on the little table over there,
three dark and three light,
skittish flareup of rare stems:
every one a foul-mouthed violet bloom,
arched in the empty air, heavily,
like a gush of endless sorrow.
11. “Amor Celeste”
Poet: Michelangelo Buonarroti
Year Published: 1623
English Title: “Celestial Love”
Although best-known for the frescoes on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel in the Vatican, as well as the Pieta and David sculptures, Michelangelo Buonarroti also delved into other disciplines such as painting, architecture, engineering, and poetry. He wrote beautiful sonnets, “Amore Celeste” being one of them.
This is a beautiful and powerful Italian poem that has moved and inspired lovers for centuries. Michelangelo wrote this poem about Vittoria Colonna, a woman that Michelangelo spent some time with.
“Amore celeste”
Nessuna cosa mortale ha affascinato questi occhi bramosi
Quando ho trovato la pace perfetta nel tuo bel viso;
Ma lontano dentro, dove tutto è terra santa, l’anima mia sentiva l’amore, suo compagno dei cieli:
perché con Dio nacque in paradiso;
Né tutti gli spettacoli di bellezza sparsi intorno a
questo bel mondo falso le sue ali alla terra hanno legato:
all’amore degli amori in alto vola.
No, le cose che soffrono la morte, non estinguere il fuoco
degli spiriti immortali; né l’eternità
Serve sordido Tempo, che appassisce tutte le cose rare.
Non l’amore, ma l’impulso senza legge è desiderio:
che uccide l’anima; il nostro amore rende ancora più belli i
nostri amici sulla terra, più belli nella morte in alto.
“Celestial Love”
No mortal thing enthralled these longing eyes
When perfect peace in thy fair face I found;
But far within, where all is holy ground,
My soul felt Love, her comrade of the skies:
For she was born with God in Paradise;
Nor all the shows of beauty shed around
This fair false world her wings to earth have bound:
Unto the Love of Loves aloft she flies.
Nay, things that suffer death, quench not the fire
Of deathless spirits; nor eternity
Serves sordid Time, that withers all things rare.
Not love but lawless impulse is desire:
That slays the soul; our love makes still more fair
Our friends on earth, fairer in death on high.
12. “Mattina”
Poet: Giuseppe Ungaretti
Year Published: 1919
English Title: “Morning”
Said to be the shortest Italian poem ever, “Mattina” by Giuseppe Ungaretti consists of only 24 letters, including the title.
Written in 1917, “Mattina” was included in the collection L’Allegria di naufragi (Merriness of Shipwrecks), published shortly after World War I. An expanded versions was published in 1931, titled L’allegria (Merriness).
To try to decipher the meaning of this poem, we only have the words of Giuseppe Ungaretti himself to rely on: “Poetry is poetry when it carries within it a secret.”
“Mattina”
M’illumino d’immenso.
“Morning”
I’m illuminated with immensity.