  The very small children in patched clothing, Being smitten with an unusual wisdom, Stopped in their play as she passed them And cried up from their cobbles: Guarda! Ahi, guarda! ch’ È be’a! But three years after this I heard the young Dante, whose last name I do not know— For there are, in Sirmione, twenty-eight young Dantes and thirty-four Catulli; And there had been a great catch of sardines, And his elders Were packing them in the great wooden boxes For the market in Brescia, and he Leapt about, snatching at the bright fish And getting in both of their ways; And in vain they commanded him to sta fermo! And when they would not let him arrange The fish in the boxes He stroked those which were already arranged, Murmuring for his own satisfaction This identical phrase: Ch’ È be’a. And at this I was mildly abashed. |
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