"Traddutore, Traditore" by Fred Chappell

Traddutore, Traditore

Uncle Barber’s tangled tongue

           Turns his words to mush;

Vowel, consonant, diphthong

           Thicken into slush.

We know that he’s intelligent;

           The expressions of his face

Give us a hint, more than a hint,

           Dementia’s not the case.

Aunt Hannah interprets his every word,

           Yet as we follow along

Some things she says are so absurd

           She must have got them wrong.

We cannot avoid a dark suspicion:

           Isn’t there more than a tinge

In her tone of caustic, mocking derision?

           That would be her perfect revenge.

Source of the text – Fred Chappell, Family Gathering.  Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 2000, p. 39.

TJB: In ballad stanzas, galloping iambs, & unmetrical last line, the mistranslation is due to a wife’s ancient anger—but why misspell the title?