Il Cantilena

"Il Cantilena" is the oldest known literary text in the Maltese language; the poem dates from the 15th century and is attributed to Pietru Caxaro. For me, it's one of the more eloquent, embittered portraits of love built on poor foundations -- or, perhaps, a good engineering lesson about the construction of wells.


Xideu il cada ye gireni tale nichadithicum
Mensab fil gueri uele nisab fo homorcom
Calb mehandihe chakim soltan ui le mule
Bir imgamic rimitne betiragin mucsule
Fen hayran al garca nenzel fi tirag minzeli
Nitla vu nargia ninzil deyem fil bachar il hali.

Huakit hi mirammiti lili zimen nibni
Mectatilix mihallimin me chitali tafal morchi
fen timayt insib il gebel sib tafal morchi
vackit hi mirammiti.

Huakit by mirammiti Nizlit hi li sisen
Mectatilix li mihallimin ma kitatili li gebel
fen tumayt insib il gebel sib tafal morchi
Huakit thi mirammiti lili zimen nibni
Huec ucakit hi mirammiti vargia ibnie
biddilihe inte il miken illi yeutihe
Min ibidill il miken ibidil i vintura
haliex liradi ’al col xibir sura
hemme ard bayad v hemme ard seude et hamyra
Hactar min hedann heme tred mine tamara.

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Witness my predicament, my friends, as I shall relate it to you:
never has there been, neither in the past, nor in your lifetime,
Such a heart, ungoverned, without lord or sultan,
That threw me down a well, with broken stairs
Where, yearning to drown, I descend the steps of my downfall,
Climb back up, only to go down again in this sea of woe.

She fell, my edifice, which I had been building for so long,
It was not the builders’ fault, but that of the soft clay beneath;
Where I had hoped to find rock, I found loose clay
She fell, my building!

She fell, my building, her foundations collapsed;
It was not the builders’ fault, but the rock gave way,
Where I had hoped to find rock, I found loose clay
She fell, my edifice, which I had been building for so long,
And so, my edifice subsided, and I shall have to build it up again,
change the site that caused its downfall
Who changes his place, changes his fate!
for each place has its own shape;
there is white land and there is black land, and red
But above all, you must stay clear of it.