I’m trying to translate this angsty, terribly liberal arts student poem about my unhealthy feelings about opera into Italian for part of my final project (which I have gotten little to no instructions about other than some vague thing about looking into my heart and doing mind exercises which are NOT appropriate instructions for my advance comp final. Guhhh)
So, if anyone who is far better at Italian than I am could possibly have a look at this and tell me just how rubbish it is, I would be terribly, terribly grateful.
This is it in English:
opera is wrapped in my spine,
intrinsically coiled with my thoracic nerves,
buried deep in my medulla oblongata
to take it out would destroy me, it
would shatter my spine and pulverize my brain
for me,
who is so pretentious in all aspects
this
this thing
is something so utterly unpretentious,
something so unabashedly loved
it frightens me
And this is it in my truly rubbish Italian:l’opera è imballata nel midollo spinale
intrinsecamente avvolta con i nervi toracici
sepolta profonda nel bulbo d’encefalo
di portarlo fuori
mi rovinerebbe
frantumerebbe la spina dorsale e polverizzerebbe il cervello
per me,
la persona che è tanto pretenziosa in tutti gli aspetti
questa
questa cosa
è qualcosa così senza pretensa
qualcosa così sfacciatamente amata
mi spaventa