I’m still alive: I’m still not alone,
with a beggar-woman beside me
I take delight in the huge empty zone,
the haze, the blizzards, and the freeze.
In beautiful poverty, luxurious distress,
living alone – consoled, and quietly –
these days, these nights, are blessed,
and innocent labour echoes sweetly.
Unhappy he, whom, like his shade,
barking scares, the wind scythes through,
and poor the one, half-alive, who’s made
to beg for mercy from a shadow.
Non sono ancora morto, non ancora solo
se insieme alla compagna – poverella
gusto la nobiltà delle pianure,
la caligine, la fame, la bufera.
In splendida miseria, in sfarzosa povertà
vivo solitario – confortato e sereno –
beati quei giorni, quelle notti,
e la dolce sonora, innocente fatica.
Infelice chi come la sua ombra
spaventano i latrati, falcia il vento,
chi, solo a mezzo vivo,
va mendicando alla sua stessa ombra.
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