Honor to the ancestors in Sardinia: Su Mortu Mortu
When the first shadows of evening embrace the villages of my beloved Sardinia, the harvests are over and the autumn days begin to shorten, an ancient ritual revives the bond between the world of the living and that of the dead.
It is traditionally celebrated between the end of October and the first days of November and represents one of the most fascinating and complex aspects of Sardinian cultural heritage, bearing witness to the persistence of an ancestor cult that goes back to the dawn of time.
In the view of the ancient Sardinians, the autumn period was seen as a liminal moment when the veil between the world of the living and that of the dead gradually dissolved and, according to agro-pastoral imagination, when death seemed to reign inexorably over the earth and life stirred underground through the sowing, the souls of the dead returned to the homes in which they had once lived.
Su Mortu Mortu — celebrated in the wild Barbagia region, especially in Nuoro and Orotelli, this name literally means “the dead one, the dead one” and refers to ancient rituals honoring the souls of the departed.
Su Prugadoriu — used in Ogliastra, Tiana, Seui, and Esterzili, the term translates as “the Purgatory”, a reference to prayers and offerings meant to help souls in their passage to the afterlife.
Is Animeddas, Is Animas, and Is Panixeddas — common in Campidano, these names mean “the little souls,” “the souls,” and “the small breads”, linked to children’s visits from house to house asking for offerings and special breads for the dead.
Su Peti Coccone — found in Baronia and Dorgali, literally means “asking for bread”, evoking an ancient custom in which children or villagers would go door to door seeking food or offerings in honor of the departed.
Su Biddiu Longu — in the Sulcis area, literally “the long vigil,” referring to the extended night watch held in memory of the deceased.
Yet the ritual, though with slight variations, remains always the same: a heartfelt bridge between the world of the living and the dead.

On the evening of October 31st or on November 1st or 2nd, depending on the village, children used to (and still do today) go from house to house asking for food offerings for the souls of the dead, acting as little mediators between the human world and the spirit world.
The ritual formulas varied from village to village, yet they all shared the same propitiatory intent:
In Logudoro, children could be heard saying: Morti morti, dàghemi pani po sos mortos (“Dead, dead, give me bread for the dead”).
In Campidano, the chant was: Seus benius po is animeddas (“We have come for the little souls”).
In Sarrabus-Gerrei, the formula made an explicit reference to Purgatory: Is Animeddas, Is Animeddas de su Prugadòriu, chi no si ndi ‘onais atacaus agitòriu! (“The souls, the souls of Purgatory — if you don’t give to them, we’ll unleash Hell upon you!”).
Another version went: Carki cosa pro sas animas (“Something for the souls”).
In Sorgono, the children recited: Ammain Deus, pane chereus, pane e inare, a chie nde olet giare, e chie nono… passienzia. (“In God’s name, we ask for bread and money, to those who will give it gladly, and to those who won’t… patience”), often ending with a curse: e chie nono, mai sa vida (“and to those who don’t, may life never smile upon them”).
In Orotelli and Nuoro, the threat turned humorous: Su Mortu Mortu o si nono bos cago s’ortu (“Su Mortu Mortu — and if you don’t, I’ll shit your garden”), the Sardinian version of “trick or treat.”
In Bonarcado, they said: Faghie bene po sas animas de su prugadoriu (“Do good for the souls in Purgatory”).
In Birori, the short and direct phrase was: Su bene chi tocca (“The good that’s due”).
Children would wander around wearing old, tattered clothes, their faces smeared with charcoal to resemble wandering souls and spirits — and to blend in with them — just like in the old Anglo-Saxon “guising” custom from which today’s Halloween traditions have derived.
In some villages, the children carried empty flour sacks called su Biddiu Longu or sas cussineras (pillowcases), which they used to collect their offerings.
These included dried fruits such as walnuts, hazelnuts, almonds, and chestnuts; traditional cookies known as papassini (made with durum wheat flour, dried fruit, and raisins) or papassinos de sapa (made with cooked and concentrated grape must); su pane e sos mortos (“the bread of the dead”); and sometimes even a few coins
In some villages of the Campidano area, the sweets were shaped in anthropomorphic forms, such as sa pippia de thuccuru (“the sugar doll”), or made to resemble small bones.
Seasonal fruits were always present, including mandarins, apples, and pomegranates.
The pomegranate, in particular, holds a central place in Su Mortu Mortu/Is Animeddas tradition as a powerful symbol of fertility, abundance, and regeneration. It serves as a vital link to the world of the dead while at the same time acting as a good omen for future prosperity.

They also carried carved pumpkins with a small light inside, meant to host the souls of their ancestors and to guide them on their journey during the commemoration.
In Orani, the pumpkin was called s’animedda (“the little soul”), while in other villages it took the name conca e mortu (“the head of the dead”).
In the Campidano area, people lit sas lantias, small lanterns made with cloth wicks soaked in olive oil and placed on cork stoppers that floated in bowls of water — one stopper for each departed soul of the family.
These were kept burning from the evening of All Saints’ Day until midnight on November 2nd, serving as guiding lights for the visiting souls of ancestors while also acting as a protective fire against evil spirits

Alongside the children’s rounds for offerings, families also practiced the ritual of the souls’ dinner. On the night bridging November 2nd, the day of the commemoration of the dead, after the evening meal the table was left set throughout the night with dishes reserved for the departed: a plate of well-seasoned pasta, sos maccarrones, or bread, wine, and legumes such as chickpeas and broad beans.
No cutlery—especially knives or forks—was ever left on the table, to prevent sas animas malas (the evil souls) from injuring anyone in a sudden outburst of anger.
There is, however, a particular custom from the village of Gadoni that has always fascinated me, though I have never had the chance to witness it firsthand. It is called Is Fraccheras.
This ancient rite takes place on November 2nd. In the days leading up to the event, young people would go to the fields to gather dried stems of asphodel—the flower of the dead and of the Elysian Fields—and of ferula, which they used to make large torches known as Sa Fraccheras

Inside each bundle were inserted stems of Canna Pudescia, a highly flammable plant, and at dusk on November 2nd the ends of the torches were set alight.
Participants had to carry them on their shoulders through the streets of the village, without ever letting the fire die out: only those who managed to return with their torch almost completely consumed were considered skillful in the rite.
The fire of the Fraccheras served to illuminate the path for the wandering souls of the dead, guiding them away from the village. To enhance the apotropaic and symbolic effect, Sas Concas de Mortu—hollowed-out pumpkins carved in the shape of skulls with candles inside—were also placed along the streets.
The ceremony was accompanied by the tolling of the bells known as S’agonia (The agony’s bells) which gave the atmosphere a solemn, at times macabre, tone.
The religious dimension of this commemorative period was deeply connected to the Catholic doctrine of Purgatory.
The offerings collected by children represented the obolus paid to free souls from Purgatory, shortening the time of their expiation.
Similarly, in Seui and Esterzili, the children’s round for offerings was explicitly called Su Prugadoriu, underlining the direct link with the souls that children symbolically embodied.
This conception echoes wider devotional traditions of southern Catholicism, where the relationship between the living and the dead was expressed through acts of intercession and suffrage. However, Sardinia’s distinctiveness lay in the blending of Christian elements with older, pre-Christian, and pagan cultural strata: the belief in the periodic return of the dead through the thinning of the veil separating them from the living, the mediating role of children, and the use of apotropaic symbols such as the illuminated pumpkin, the fires, and the souls’ dinners.
And while in most of the Euro-Mediterranean region the children’s autumn-winter rounds have long disappeared—replaced by the commercialized modern Halloween—in Sardinia, especially in the inland villages, this ancient tradition remains vibrant and alive.