NINNA NANNA
She sang with a low, resonant voice, her throat deepened by the heavy thumbprint of sex, gestation, labour. Her body was still, hunched uncomfortably over the top stair of the case outside her daughter’s door
Fai la ninna, fai la nanna,*
Questa bimba
Non c’è più pace
[Fai la ninna, fai la nanna,
This baby
Has no peace]
The song spilled out weightily from her chest, her lips moving with great intention, her brow furrowed. As the breath left her she felt it rise like a great wind, rolling over miles and miles of desert sand, sculpting its dunes, smoothing their surface in a mighty caress
Ninna nanna, ninna o
Questa bimba
A chi lo dò?
[Ninna nanna, ninna o
Who should I give
This baby to?]
It curled onwards, directly at the stark, smudged, white-painted wall of the attic ceiling
Lo darò a la Befana,
Ma lo tiene un’settimana
Lo darò al bove nero
Ma lo tiene un ann’intero
[I could give her to the Befana
But she’d keep her the whole week
I could give her to the black ox
But he’d have her the whole year]
And still the baby cried, moaning in languid desperation, scared to be left alone yet dying to sleep. Each cry hit her mother with both inevitability and surprise, as a wave hits a rock; as a rock becomes a cliff—
Ninna nanna, ninna o
Questa bimba
A chi lo dò?
[Ninna nanna, ninna o
Who should I give
This baby to?]
The cries now sounded full of unimaginable grief, perhaps of things future, she thought, rather than past. Things set in motion, or at least prophesied, by this very neglect; this dark cavern of loneliness already appearing in the perfect body of a child. A shriek now. High. Urgent. Longing for the arms of her mother to be wrapped around her. Why? She was so tired! Rubbing her eyes clumsily with tiny hands, letting her gaze go adrift and her eyes moisten with slumber
Lo darò a lupo bianco
Ma lo tiene tanto e tanto
[I could give her to the white wolf
But he’d keep her too long]
Frustration: that terrible tension which grips the whole body, forced its way out through the song, carrying it up to a crescent, then breaking, suddenly, smoothing again, the sand, gently—oh so gently
Ninna nanna, ninna o
Questa bimba
Addormento
[Ninna nanna, ninna o
This baby
Now sleeps]
* The words are from a version of a traditional Italian lullaby. “Fai la ninna, fai la nanna” means something like “Go to sleep”, or “Have a nap,” or just “Lullaby”.
