Visiting the Past

My Mother had an Irish/English heritage.  My Father was first generation Italian-American.  It was from his side that we learned bits of Italian--an Italian nursery song, counting to five, an odd phrase here and there. I always wish I knew more Italian, more of that culture, more about my heritage.  Sometimes I find little hints in odd, roundabout ways. 

Craig had me looking for a lullaby the other day and I found a page of  Italian Lullabies reflecting a life that most people no longer lead.  They are honest songs, mentioning exhaustion, endless chores, the life in a small village or farm.  They are far more beautiful than "Lullaby and Good Night" in that they are real.  Come, visit a small child's bedside at the fall of evening in the land that my father's family left to come to America. 

• Mother's Song to Little Hans

"Be quiet now, my little boy.  Please lie down to sleep.  Mum is sitting by your bed Singing rock-a-bye.  Mum is so very tired.  She badly needs to rest.  It is dark and late at night.  Go to sleep my child."

• Hullee, baby 

"Hullee, baby, I’m rocking you. After you fall asleep I’ll leave you. I’ll go to the garden, to the valley for raspberries."

• Go to sleep, my Simone

The shepherd cries when it snows,
he doesn’t cry when he eats the‘Ricotta’*.

The shepherd cries when it rains,
he doesn’t cry when he eats the ‘Caciole’*

Hush a bye, my Simone,
You will learn your father’s art,
You will learn to use the cross-cut saw,
Hush a bye, my Simone.

Hush a bye, my sweetie,
Your dad has come,
he has brought a little hat for you,
Hush a bye, my sweetie.

Hush a bye, rag baby boy,
Until it will be half past twelve,
Until the bread in the oven will be ready,
Until it will be half past twelve,

Until the bread will be ready,
the damsels are in the square,
my baby is in his big bed,
and sleep, my Simone.
 *Caciotta: a soft cheese from Central Italy
*Ricotta: soft white unsalted cheese

• Star, Little Star

Star, little star
The night is approaching:
the flame is tottering,
The cow is in the cowshed.
The sheep and the lamb,
the cow with the calf,
The hen with its chicks,
The cat with its kittens;
and all are sleeping
In the mother’s heart!
   
I have to confess to loving  Go to Sleep, My Simone the best.  How can you not love any song that talks about Ricotta?