Translation, especially of poetry, truly is an art...one that I can't say I've mastered. Do you preserve the syntax, do you adapt it to a more colloquial tone, or does that rob the poeticness? Gah. But here's a go:
Vita by Davide Ceccione
Have you haver seen how fleeting is the life
of a droplet?
Has one ever told you with how much love and joy it battles for
its independence? It forces with divinity to liberate itself
from the yoke of the edge.
It falls and rejoices, dying.
Have you never seen and understood this?
And don't come to me to speak of life.
I may have taken slight liberties, and I'm not 100% sure of the best way to translate the last line, but I love the droplet; it sort of causes me to reflect on the eternities and how are lives are short and precious. But I won't elaborate on all my musings about the poem and enter into a lengthy and self-indulgent memoir-style composition on why I love this poem. You can enjoy it and take from it what you will.
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