SERATA SOFISTICATA
[disclaimer: native poem in Italian, below!! I hope the English is funny, too!]
We sit, unsure,
at a white table set with care,
the scent of lilies in the air—
their stems cut clean,
they cry
from dainty glasses
a soft forewarning sigh.
“Will it cost too much?” she asks, serene,
as we, still trembling, wait
the page of wines—
when lo!
Jazz begins to play,
declaring loud
the price we’re bound to pay.
The evening marches on apace,
while bills grow legs
and make their quick escape
from pockets—right before
our eyes, now glassy,
brimming near with tears.
Until at last
a stack of dishes waits,
gleaming in the kitchen light—
the only way
we might repay
those three exquisite bites.
SERATA SOFISTICATA
Incerti ci sendiam al
tavol bianco apparecchiato,
col profum de’ gigli che,
tagliato il gambo netto,
dal bicchierin leggero
gridan primo avvertimento.
“Costerà troppo il posto?” fa lei, soave,
mentre tremanti attendiam carta dé vini,
quand’ ahi!
Musica jazz comincia,
decretando il livel del
prossimo esborso!
La serata tutta essa incalza,
mentre i soldi paion metter gambe
e via dalle tasche sfilar
sotto gli occhi nostri
luccicanti,
finché lavata di piatti
sol rimanga
per sdebitarci di pur
parco pasto.
KRUBIAT 
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