Featured Poem


You own no coffin to drag across the snow,
just a dog shivering in the dark.

Mother-tongue you’re heavyhearted;
garlic blackens in the copper pan.

A low drone rises from the hearth.
Winds tangle throughter all confused.
Aeolus blows but Babel’s left alive.

Daughter-tongue: creak of the juniper.
Your shudder at birth’s a shard chipped off
a storm among the planets

and the clouds, the clouds blindly race
obliterating from the skies
all trace of lineage.

» Comment on this translation 0 comment(s)

About the translation:
» Read translator's notes
Antonella Anedda
Jamie McKendrick
Original language:
Series 3 No. 4 - Between the Languages

Original poem

About the authors


Antonella Anedda

Antonella Anedda was born in Rome in 1958, of a Sardinian family. The languages she was brought up hearing, however, were, apa...

» Read more


Jamie McKendrick

Jamie McKendrick, born in Liverpool in 1955, has published five books of poems and a book of selected poems, Sky Nails. His mo...

» Read more

Tongue (Limba)

Non tenes baùle ‘e istrisinare in supr’e nie
Ma unu cane a trémula in s’iscuriù.

Limba-matre ses triste.
S’azu s’inniéddigat in sa sartàine.

Sa mùghit’anziat.
Sos ventos si coffundent.
Eolo survat et Babele s’isparghet.

Fiza-limba tràchitas a ghineperu.
Una tremita tua naschinde
est ch’astula de livrina in mes’a isteddos

et sas nues, sas nues a sa thurpas fughint
iscanzellande dae chelu onzi zenìas


No Comments


Browse poems

By original language »

By issue of MPT »

Go Digital

Subscribe to the digital edition of MPT for access to all back issues and to the Exactly app.» View free trial issue

Back to top
Supported by Arts Council England

Copyright © Modern Poetry in Translation and contributors
Website design ashbydesign
Developed by Code Frontiers
Powered by Storemill