Immersed in all my interior peace,
I visite the dad's grave in a bleak countryside.
All around once upon a time the vineyards were everywhere,
Now the wood reabsorbs everything.
The professor's garden is pleasant with its lemon trees, flowers, high pinetrees.]
There you can meet the nice professor's wife,
Busy with her plans for the roses.
How different this peace is from the other one!
Dad was young in his populous countryside,
At this moment I think about him.
I shall dedicate these Pascoli's lines for him:
'Yes: I said my prayers upon you,
And wept: nevertheless, you happy who saw
The wind pulling nothing but kites down! '
Paolo Giuseppe Mazzarello
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ode-to-a-professor/
