Pietro Baccino (1940)

Pietro Baccino, born in Savona, has taught for thirty-five years in elementary school, cultivating a passion for naturalistic and botanical observation in particular and offering the expertise he acquired to his students and through magazine articles, lectures, and lessons at Unitre in Savona and Finale Ligure. He co-authored the booklet Alberi a Savona and published the book Orchidee spontanee della provincia di Savona, the result of 20 years of research. He has studied the language of the Ligurian hinterland, spoken in his family, of which he compiled a dictionary, and then used it, starting in 2004, to narrate in verse the work, toil, and sufferings of his father and mother and their farming world. He also writes in Italian, walking the paths of nature, memory and affection and turning a sympathetic gaze toward the oppressed, the trampled, the forgotten. He has published the collections Di quei giorni (winner’s prize of “Il Golfo”, 2009) and Nei binari del tempo (winner’s prize of “Voci 2010”, Mestre, IPLAC Circle). His works are included in many anthologies, and some poems in Ligurian appeared in the literary magazine Resine, No. 124/2010. In 2012, the collection of dialect poems U ’m parlova mé poŕe (My father spoke to me) was published, a prize to the winner of the “Gens Vibia” Competition in Marsciano. On December 2, 2012 he was awarded in Chiavari, by the “O Castello” Association, the “Lifetime Achievement Award” for dialectal poetry. In December 2013 he self-published a second collection in the vernacular E ciü a n’ dumand (And more I do not ask), awarded in 2016 at the “Gens Vibia” Competition. September 2018 saw the publication of the booklet Nel mio tempo, winner of the “Il Fantasmino d’Oro” Competition. In addition to numerous other awards, she has won first prize in 115 Literary Competitions.

Eŕ mé dialèt

Mé poŕe e me moŕe i parlovan dialèt.
L’è ’pó gŕéż e gŕuscé, cume ŕa vita
ch’ a brüxa i agni żuni, quand u s’mangia
cu’ŕ pan e u siù ŕa špeŕanza a u dumàn.
Mi a ne’l dŕuvova moi. Ovŕa l’è tordi
a di quel ch’a duveiva ai méi chi son
ża partìi da l’ǜrtima štaziòn.
Ma si pöŕan šcuteme, mi a vureisa
parleje in pó, an dialèt du só paiś,
dŕa tera ch’i purtovan an t’eŕ cö
e feme cuntè ancuŕa, ch’a n’è šcŕicia,
ŕa štóŕia dŕa miśéŕia moi finìa
deŕ cuntadîn ch’u tŕavaja an giurnò,
di arneixi dŕa fatiga, eŕ fer, l’ancuiża,
deŕ fen siò d’l’oŕba a seiŕa, du süŕót,
deŕ ferle a liè ŕ fascîne, deŕ caštagne
da coj cu’ŕ die apzìe dŕenta aŕ rize.
Mi a cŕed ch’u sèia pŕópi eŕ mé dialèt,
na šcuverta tardiva dŕa me reix,
e a vöj pŕuvè a marcè, cun pasci gŕévi,
an s’ŕa štŕo di méi vegi, deŕ mé mond.

J’an pers eŕ föje

Those familiar with Baccino’s photographs depicting flowers, plants, and small animals of our region know that that the same aim as these poems drives them, the same loving care and attention to aspects of nature that hasty or indifferent people are prone to overlook.

J’an pers eŕ föje u só cuŕù dŕa pŕüma,
son vnuje gione, ruse e in pó maròn,
i cażan żü ciǜ lgéŕe d’ina ciüma,
pöi i van a mügese ant’î cantòn.

E u deštîn d’l’óm u smija quel dŕa föja,
che ŕ’vent dŕa vita u pórta a ŕa só fîn,
anche s’u dix ch’u’n’ova pŕópi vöja,
u’l cumpagna a ŕa pórta cian cianîn.

Salüta fîn che t’pö, fîn che t’é viv,
eŕ cascîne, i töi bŕichi, eŕ blö du zé,
ch’u manca póc e pöi suma a l’ariv
e a n’puruma votese turna ’ndré.

L’oŕba e ŕ’ caŕè du su i t’son amixi,
eŕ cŕavete i te špetan sempŕe lì
cun j’ögi tüci atenti a quel che t’dixi,
e i n’san che u tó parlè l’è ża finì.

U m’ parlova mé poŕe

The author wrote about this poem and his choice to use Ligurian: “When my father was about to leave me, I thought of ‘collecting’ the words of his dialect, a Ligurian dialect from beyond the Savona area, with different characteristics from the Genoese of the coast. To transcribe it, I used a phonetic spelling in order to allow as authentic a reading as possible. After I had compiled a short dictionary, my father passed. To remember him and tell him how much I loved him, I wrote U m’parlova mé poŕe, a short poem in his dialect, in which I imagined him telling me about his life. I wrote more and it seemed to me that in this way I was giving voice not only to my parents, ancestors, but to a whole community, whose words before now were lost in the wind”.

U m’parlova mé poŕe, an sógn, l’otŕéŕi,
malinconicu, e u diva cian cianîn…
«Mi a son andò e son reštoi i öxéi
a sotè ’nt’u giardîn, ŕa caštagneta
quand u fa pŕópi fŕeğ e tüci i merli
a zeŕchè ŕa maŕenda lażǜ ’nt’l’eŕba.
An t’u sciǜm növan ânie gianche e neiŕe
e an s’ŕa riva eŕ lajâze, ciǜme a fešta,
i s’dumandan: “Quel óm ch’u vniva sempŕe,
u n’vardova cun i ögi lüštŕi e u n’dova
in salǜt cun ŕa man, u se n’veg ciǜ?”
Ciante e pŕoi, föje e béštie e l’anviagese
dl’eva ant’u sciüm, eŕ nivuŕe, ŕa fióca,
l’üva e i fônżi d’utubŕ l’éŕa eŕ mé mond.
Eŕ mei ch’a j’ö ciantò lasǜ ai Bażâgni
l’è ancuŕa viv, ma veğ, e bele meiŕe
un n’an fa pŕópi ciǜ. Mi a son andò
e a j’ö lasciò ben póc, in fij, in név,
na nux, dui campi, eŕ ben ch’a j’ö zeŕcò
d’fe a coŕcûn, reŕi amixi… E adès, ciǜ niênte».

Ŕa gent a pasa…

L’è sto suvr’an šcaŕîn davanti a u Dóm.
Ŕa gent ch’a pasa a l’vorda: l’è ’n póvŕ’óm
L’è sto suvr’an šcaŕîn davanti a u Dóm.
ch’u s’mangia ’n tóc e’d’pan e ’n pó d’fuŕmağ.
L’a na giaca ch’u smija in špuventağ,
eŕ bŕoje fŕüšte e šcoŕpe da suŕè,
na bursa, dui sacheti, d’otŕ u n’j’è.
Posoia an tera, na cupeta a ciama
dui citi peŕ catese in gót e’d vîn
peŕ šcodese, ch’a n’uma ciǜ ŕa sciama
deŕ fuŕiè o dŕa štiva lì davxîn.
U m’sota a i ögi tüta queŕa gent,
ch’a partiva an miśéŕia daŕ paiś
a zeŕchè ŕa limóxina luntan
e a dumandova sul in tóc e’d’pan.
Son pasoi zent agni e ancuŕa zent,
mi a vord s’póvŕ’óm e a son pŕópi d’l’aviś,
ch’a duvŕeisman penseje in po’ in mumènt
e a tüci i póvŕi feje in monümènt.
Ŕa gent a vorda e a pasa, a sera eŕ cö,
pöi a va ’n géxa, a pŕeghè cósa, a ’n sö.
Suvŕa ŕa pórta ŕa moŕe du Sgnù
a pŕéga pŕi cŕištiagni senza amǜ.