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The Flower of No Smell Is SpeakingAuthor(s): Silvino PoesiniSource: The Iowa Review, Vol. 20, No. 1 (Winter, 1990), pp. 24-25Published by: University of IowaStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/20152940 .
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This content downloaded from 62.122.79.52 on Thu, 12 Jun 2014 17:03:56 PMAll use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions
inhabited by the Tormentoni brothers
and the Nebbias who will capture binfuls of you little thrushes
as you go on you will get to Roccagnano a priestless parish but for the Boari brothers
always with rifles in their hands
further on
there lie Toppo ?
Vena?Valle?Castro
where one hundred hunters wouldn't be the half of them
still further out
as I've been saying lies your worst enemy
it's your ancient cemetery at Fiorano
with the Camparinis and the hangman of Toricella
who will have caught you, need I add, in crossfire.
The Flower of No Smell Is Speaking
I do not feel ungraced in any way
if, unlike other flowers, I give no smell
nature made me this way
by rooting me onto the branch of a tree
I live on mountain heights and am washed only by rains
I am always fresh, never down
the hard frost does not touch my crown
in the month of December I yield goodly fruit not to be eaten but to serve as a gift
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to the family that receives me kindly I return a house filled with beauty
it matters little I do not smell like a flower
to that family I bring health peace and love
nature made me a divine flower
I exist to make homes beautiful at the advent of the Christ child
when the Christmas holidays are over
the manger is in the houses still
From the Earth: Joys and Sorrows
break forth into joy little field now that good weather has returned
you were flooded so often
it is a wonder you have not drowned
I am sorrowful, distraught to see your corn in wilt
I cry in despair in bitter sighs and say "why didn't I save my crumbs"
I take it out on the saints, except for Canoscio
and calm down when I am called by Berto di Moscio
I am soothed then, peaceful again as he offers me a glass of wine "on the wing"
and tells me "don't get mad, pray to God
the sun is back, its warmth chases the hex away"
Translated from the Italian by Stavros Deligiorgis
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