A Poem: Signore Marinaccio
I wrote this poem recently. It’s a homage to Mr. Marinaccio, my clarinet teacher who was also a third grandfather to me. It’s intended to be in Italian. I’ve provided an English translation below.
Signore Marinaccio (Allison Scola)
Il tuo cognome Marinaccio ti ha descritto perfettamente.
Hai sembrato un marinaio.
Una faccia tonda con un baffo
Spalle larghe
E le mani come guantoni.
Ma la lenza che lanciava non esisteva pescare.
La lenza era le melodie dal tuo clarinetto con cui catturavi
il mare,
il sole,
l’aria, e
le stelle.
Proprio, non suonavi il clarinetto.
Cantavi la bellezza della Terra.
Cantavi
l’amore della vita
… nutrire le nostre anime.
—-
Mr. Marinaccio (Allison Scola for Frank Marinaccio)
Your name Marinaccio described you perfectly.
You resembled a mariner.
A round face with a mustache
Broad shoulders
And hands like baseball mitts.
But the line that you cast didn’t exist to fish.
The line was the melody from your clarinet with which you caught
the sea,
the sun,
the air, and
the stars.
Really, you didn’t play the clarinet.
You sang the beauty of the Earth.
You sang
the love of life
…to nourish our souls.
2 months ago • 0 notes