Because sometimes English isn't good enough

Many of you know (but some do not) that I minored in Italian in college. Through a random series of events I discovered a blog written in Italian and bookmarked it to glance at later to see if I understood any of it. What I found shocked me. I had forgotten how beautiful the Italian language is. I think the best way to describe it is that its an ancient language that has changed very little from its original Latin, and therefore, it is best used to describe old things, old memories, old friendships... its a language for memories. In fact, it has four different verb tenses for the past tense. Anyway, I hope the blog author, "Hanomalia," will not mind if I do a very poor translation so that (I hope) my English readers can travel with me as I reminisce. This is not going to be a word for word translation, because I can't say in English what it means as I understand it.

E' stato un ricordo che mi ha invaso come i raggi caldi di sole che c'erano stamani. L'ombra, il caldo, l'ora non lo so precisamente ma eccolo lì intatto.

She speaks of a memory that has penetrated her like the hot rays of the sun. The shadow, the heat, the hour, something is triggering it, but she doesn't know exactly what.

Le estati dell'infanzia quando alla fine della scuola ci si ritrovava con un appuntamento muto tutti insieme dopo un inverno da soli in appartamenti con la luce artificiale e i compiti da fare

She remembers her childhood, and the end of school, after spending all spring alone with the artificial light and the homework.

Ma a giugno cominciava l'estate, l'estate in strada perchè non avevamo parchi al massimo avevamo i campi in cui correre ed io cominciavo a starnutire e mi infangavo e cadevo e rompevo sempre i pantaloni

But June is when summer starts. There were places to run and play and fall down and always rip her pants.

E quell'ombra degli alberi e guarda che passa il primo amore il giallo dei campi il verde della cicoria gli occhi del diavolo e gli occhi della madonna Son stata felice e stamani in quel ricordo son stata felice ancora.

Under the shadow of a tree, look to see her first love pass by, the yellow of the fields and the green of the "cicoria," (I think that's chicory?) the dandelions and the violets. "I was happy and in that memory I am still happy."

Sigh. It makes me so happy to read it in Italian. Its only ok in English. You all will just have to learn to speak Italian. I miss those carefree summer days too. Summer rainstorms, and sitting them out under the trees by the water, waiting for the first love to come calling, playing games, ripping my clothes and not noticing till later because we were having so much fun, shaking sand out of my hair and getting tan instead of burned. Did you ever notice that when you hit puberty, your skin changes along with all the rest of you? In the summers, I was extremely dark... you'd think I had some Italian or Greek blood in me, in the summer, but nope... none of my ancestors had Mediterranean blood. Somewhere, somehow, my young childhood skin managed to be that skin I envy now.

Anyway... basta... enough. I'm going to bed with these summer dreams. Buonanotte.