"Idillio," by Vincenzo Cardarelli; "Idyll," by Vincenzo Cardarelli, English version, translated in English by LiteraryJoint

Vincent van Gogh, "Vineyards with a View of Auvers", oil on canvas, June 1890. The Saint Louis Art Museum, St. Louis, USA.

Idyll

Through a shaded dirt track

between two walls of rusty stones

from which sunbathed grape leaves
sprouted up,
I saw one day, in Liguria,

(oh unexpected encounter!)

a young country girl
standing upright on the edge of her vineyard. 

Solitary was the path,

ardent the time of the day. 

She looked at me, and smiled,

the lassie.

And I told her, drawing near,

words that I heard rising

from the blood,

from my whole being, in praise

of her beauty.

Beneath the blush of her face beaded
with perspiration from her paused toil
her mouth was laughing brightly.
She was barefoot. A chip
of golden clay

dressed her feet accustomed to daily

bathing at the spring.

Her eyes, fiery and shiny,

were glimmering with youth,

shiny and profound.

And behind her, so earthy and splendid,
the well known and trusty shades
of the familiar grape tree

seemed to watch over her.

All was peace around

and rustic silence.

By Vincenzo Cardarelli, from the collection "Poesie," 1949. From "Vincenzo Cardarelli: The Forgotten amongst the Great. A Collection of the Best Poems by Vincenzo Cardarelli, Translated in English," available as e-book on Amazon Kindle, iPhone, iPad, or iPod touch, on NOOK Book, on Kobo, and as printed, traditional edition through Lulu.
 

Idillio

Per una stradetta ombreggiata

fra due muri di pietre rugginose

da cui spuntavano pampani

soleggiati,

vidi un giorno, in Liguria,

(oh incontro inatteso!)

una giovane contadina

ritta sul limite del suo vigneto.

Era la via romita,

l'ora estuosa.

Mi guardò, mi sorrise,

la villanella.

Ed io le dissi, accostandomi,

parole che udivo salire

dal sangue,

da tutto il mio essere, in lode

di sua bellezza.

Sotto il rossore del volto imperlato

dall'interrotta fatica

la bocca sua rideva luminosa.

Era scalza. Una scaglia

d'argilla dorata

rivestiva i suoi piedi usi ai diurni

lavacri della fonte.

Gli occhi, infocati e lustri,

di gioventù brillavano,

solare e profonda.

E dietro a lei, così terrosa e splendida,

l'ombre cognite e fide

della domestica vite

parevan vigilarla.

Tutto era pace intorno
e silenzio agreste.