THE NEW WORLD AND THE OLD
HISTORY ABOUT THE MALOCCHIO, THE MEDAL AND MORE…
1. The two fingers, down, ward off evil; up, to curse or watch your wife, she’s cheating
2. The one in the middle, ward off evil
3. And on the end; the horned god Faunus known for his wild nature in futility
Being of Italian descent
I am here to present
Words of old
That my grandparents told
To the American world at large
Whether they came ashore by boat or barge (lower or upper class)
Their precious ‘words’ they inherited
Long before America was their dream, their hope
Their ‘words’ that never dispirited
Their ancient day scope
If you’re from an Italian family at birth
You learn quickly, from the moment you’re on earth
The Momma’s, the Nonna’s would gather
All the ‘words’ that mattered
Especially, when parading you, in a carriage, down the street or road Now, if you know Italian history, from old
It’s no mystery, not even cold, more like bold
They, the parents, the Nonno & Nonna’s, too
Love parading their new arrival out on review
But, God forbid, don’t ‘overlook’
The child whose given too much flattery
With ‘words’ that sound like vanity
You, the viewer, may spot a Cross, or a medal of Mary
No, it’s not scary, protection from the wary
The child is shrouded in religiosity
Or just yesteryear ideas of sentimentality!
Whether it was a red or gold pepper, white ball of garlic
Mary’s medal or gold Cross, it wasn’t a frolic
It was a display of great concern
Which they, our relatives learned
It was ‘good luck’ (Cornicelli)
Victory over the devil
On every level
And, remember too,” the Malocchio”
For the headache that would ensue
They had a remedy for that, too
A bowl of water, a door key or a Cross
They were never at a loss
Drops of Oil on the water; like drops of paint from the artist’s brush but ‘zitto’ (quiet) With a sign of the Cross and a with a prayer and care
Portrayed an image, like an Artist’s brush on a pallet
“Godforbid” if the oil spread, it was like a shot to the head with a mallet
“Don’t underestimate the wisdom of ancestors”
African Proverb
But if the drops of oil stayed in tiny circles with a clear view You were deemed safe, no headaches, your head as good as new That’s the Power of yesterday’s Italian WORDS and it seems fair Whether performed with an old fashioned wish and care Garlic, a ‘red pepper’ or water & oil or a key said with a prayer You say, ‘mystery’
And they, of old say it’s homegrown history
I have taken yesteryears ideas and have made claim To today’s fortunes that have brought them fame
At crowded street fairs and feasts
To say the least
The Jewelers, the vendors and the spendors
The travelers who visit the cities of old
From whence my forefathers came, oh, so bold
I gather these thoughts, these words which I’ve been told With relevance and reverence
I am the keeper of the adventurous, the brave
And all the ‘words’ and ideas they gave
Amen!
“Don’t worry, we’ve got you covered”
My Ancestors