Gemmadisole Silvano Baracco Another precious gift of Silvano, for those who follow this blog. I also express your opinions. For me it is wonderful, but I'm biased.
GEMMADISOLE
Silvano Di
Baracco
(Walch)
GEMMADISOLE
I always liked staying up late, wait for the morning without too much concern, saziarmi eyes of images of darkness and stars, enjoy the different feelings from those days, other situations other colors. So I love to travel for the whole night, and fill it with gestures and words.
the night the day you meet people who do not exist or were very different, and will not necessarily make them better in the spotlight of the sun (then, you know, the assholes are everywhere, even in paradise). I do not speak of the drunks who entrust their speeches to the wind and the will of their precarious balance, and even those who only fun, because they prefer to close in a few local ones that say run, the misfits, with no place to fate or by choice, those who live at night, and maybe even steal some time: a lot of these people received from life just kicks in the face, and never love, not that of the family, much less affection and warmth of a person who shares the day. They are people assigned to the opinions of others, normal, to their condemnation, because they do not know what it means to live without ever being loved. But among these people at night you can even find out what the friendship if you know, if you love them as they are, you become friends, friends are more real. For example there's a guy they call "Shanghai", which strikes with the eyes and the twisted mouth if someone greets him, use the knife as the shift lever and a passerby asked him if the time, is able to take him by the neck thirty thousand lire and ask for the information, finally dismissing him with a shove, or if it is particularly annoying with a kick in the ass. But if I say that the cigarettes I smoke are not around, if not in some tobacco shop in Bologna, he put in there what he was doing and went to Bologna to buy cigarettes. I remember when I had stolen a moped from a friend, it was clear that the technique had not been a fool to pass, but one of the tour, and then said in Shanghai that that my friend had the money to buy another, and he needed to turn in search of work and to visit the country and that the girl was just not the right person to play him a shot like that, he said, frowning that if they had not already removed would see if he could do something. Two nights later a voice I never heard it said that the phone call from Shanghai:
- Tell your friends that go to the gardens, on the square in front of schools, there is his motor clean and polished, and with the full mixture.
To the good people, ordinary, these speeches are hard to digest, I understand, but I will not convince someone, just tell me.
Sometimes night, the unexpected happens, like when a friend, about two o'clock, is a girl, combines, and you spring the street there to Alexandria, with many apologies for its part, lay with your blessing, but in the meantime the bars close no one gives you a lift at that time, you only have money in your pocket for a quick phone call home, "not to return tonight, I sleep here by a friend."
was an August night, and it is even worse, because you are covered in winter, equipped, but in that season after a day of sultry evening may follow a mosquito and overwhelming that falls suddenly in a storm: I had only a light shirt and trousers, and already the sky was filled with distant lightning, and the rising breeze.
began to spin, waiting for some inspiration, a bar open, the memory of a girl to go to find: Eh, what all married. Had I been anywhere else that night, something was, in Alexandria only behind closed doors, of course, but as a Ovada ... Ovada I went there on foot? Aimlessly, walking toward the stadium, maybe I found someone;
Shanghai does not yet know at that time, the other who knows where they were. I began to think of the station, maybe we would arrive before they unleashed the flood, despite my proverbial slow pace, around a desert, not a dog around, only self hasty I did air, some flashing, some horn sounded, but not stop talking about it.
The first appearance of a human figure, in discreet distance, was that of a girl leaning against a wall, face lit only by intermittent flashes of a cigarette apparently a prostitute, never seen before. I would be passed before continuing. I went into a phone booth, I brushed the thought of spending the night, a situation immediately discarded, left me just a coin in which I asked the last hope in a night shelter acceptable: I was reminded of Sandy, not really a friend, but a good friend, not seen him for a bit 'of time, but if I remembered the character I would certainly hosted willingly, or you might have to go somewhere for the rest of the night. I remembered him as a kind friendly, easy to laugh and drink, and also to fight, but for fun, and its telephone number was similar to that of the school I attended, I remembered again, there was a number change in the end, or was one or the other was at best if I called the school at that time no one would answer, I would have recovered the coin and made the other number, but I center on the first try, and I said his sister Sandra.
- Hello Gina, Sandy is at home?
- Who is this?
- Oh yes, sorry, I Caesar, were asleep?
- No, I have just returned, Sandro there is at sea. Sandro
the sea? In August? Out of the question was not one to go to the beach.
- But you're Caesar who?
- From Valencia, we saw each other once or twice, friends, home of Loren, I think.
- I see, the poet. How are you?
- How do you want that is? Not covered ...
- I'm sorry, Sandro is on.
- how long? What does the lawyer?
- Go to hell!
- Strange lawyer.
- Nothing to do the lawyer, I said to you. Good night.
laughed, but in the meantime I picked up the phone at him, also the last chance was blurred. I did not have even a token, not a document, almost almost hoping to pass a patrol cops, in one way or another I would solve the problem of where to spend the night, more and more cold and threatening. I discarded the idea of \u200b\u200bgoing directly from Gina, could not be alone, he could send me to hell a second time, and after all night once and for all. Sandro was a good fellow, quite naive as to get drawn into some shit, like stealing cars for the account of some old crap Asti, so we ended up in jail Sandro, that one was a decent person. I resumed the walk, I passed the prostitute must have been thirty-five, maybe more, was not even ugly, wearing a complement not very eye-catching, blond bob, she had a pleasant face and two bright eyes. I was about to greet her, but she was before them.
- Hello blond.
- Hello blond, I tell you now that I have not a penny in his pocket.
- Cigarettes do you have?
- even those few, not even half a pack.
- Lasciamene two or three.
I had eight, we did a half, they put three in an empty package that he kept in a purse and lit it right away, I pointed out that I had just turned off.
- So what? Are you my doctor?
- No, but so did you finish in half an hour again.
- Amen, somebody will more. Now maybe you can also raise the fuck out, because tonight you do not already combines a cock, a dog does not stop.
- Of course, in this weather! Well, good evening, blonde.
- But seriously you have no money?
- If you find me on a dime is yours, with nothing in return perquisiscimi well.
spread my arms And so saying, she searched really carefully, before a bit 'nervous, then slowly letting go to a cautious smile.
- You do not have anything, not even a knife around here at this time you could serve.
And I had to defend myself, what ever I could steal? I told her, in a few words and very Ironically, the story of that evening, they had come from there and my concerns about the rest of the night, and finally I saw her smile clear. It was one of those girls who are much more beautiful when they smile, but do not know, and they are often sullen. I've known girls who are more beautiful when it has been set, and they almost always laugh too: how did this evil world! I told her too, and when I advised her to smile often because she was beautiful, she smiled more: once again I was able to get someone to come in a good mood and so I could say I did my little good deed for the day. Waved and I was about to cross the street, resigned to reach the station, among other things, the weather deteriorated, began to drip, I was already a few steps away when she called me.
- Hey, look ... you! Do not you tell me your name.
- Caesar, and you?
- It's not a nice name, Caesar. You'd be better off ... Rodolfo!
was dissolved in a beautiful silvery laugh, not at all vulgar.
- I have not said how you call it.
- My name is Patrick, Patty, if you prefer.
- I like Patrick. Hello, maybe we'll see.
- Wait ... I wanted to tell you that if you do not know where to go, here in a while 'all hell broke loose, I do fear the thunder ... well, if you want you can come to my house, I am the Christ, so you do not get wet and make me company. I speak with anyone.
- and your man?
- Who has it?
- Nor ...?
- Ah, what? Cares about my private life, just give her his, is also married.
had the car around the corner, gave me the keys and told me to wait another hour or two, just to earn the evening, but after ten minutes, now under the shower, I reached by car.
- Let's go home, so tonight does not fight nail. You drive?
- Do not have a license. I had, but I have not renewed.
turned on the radio at a frightening volume, so no I understood a word of what he said during the trip, I tried to explain with gestures, she smiled and went on to say, who knows what. Finally we arrived at his house, a fine dwelling in a new building, furnished with taste. He said he was not working at home, went to the bathroom while I stayed in the entrance hall, who was also at the same time and living room, studying a series of small posters that filled one wall, depicting tropical landscapes. When he emerged from the bathroom was wrapped in a pink bathrobe, very elegant in its simplicity, I asked if it was the place of posters, she said no, but with a touch of melancholy in his eyes told him that one day she would like to go and live , forever, in one of those islands. He ate something, I was not hungry, but willingly accepted a cup of coffee. He also had a good supply of cigarettes at home.
- Rodolfo So should I call? If you want to call it so, even if such name is not that I like very much.
- I knew a guy many years ago, named Rudolf, you looked a bit ', but not so, but he had kind eyes, like yours.
- You were in love with him?
- No, I do not think I do not remember. Maybe I was never really in love, no one.
- The protagonist of the Boheme is called Rodolfo, fits me:
"Who am, I am a poet, what do I do? I write. How do I live? Vivo ".
Canticchiai this air, making her laugh heartily.
- I know, is the 'gelida manina!
- Just that, Puccini for me the most, his music sometimes moves me to tears.
- My father often listened to classical music, but I liked it, not always, and not all the works, are years that I do not hear anymore. Like Cindy Lauper?
- I do not remember hearing it, is an opera?
- But nooo! It is an American singer, I prefer that you Mary, I can hear you now.
He put on a disk, fortunately not too much volume, he began to sing above, was very in tune, and move to the rhythm of music with remarkable grace. The musical style of singing that I did not like much, but it was bearable, then I liked to see Patrick sing and dance, said that for some 'days would always listen to that record, which spared the recently listened to a lot of the symphonies of Bruckner.
- Do you want to lie down a little? I'm not used to sleep at this time, I sleep in the afternoon.
- No thanks, I did not sleep at all, if I'm awake at this hour I do not sleep anymore. Continue to sing and dance, was very nice.
- you tell me that you like a little '?
- I like you very much, Patricia, really.
- A house is not working that is, I do not pay. If you want ...
- Not yet a stove?
smiled, a bit 'sad.
- Sometimes yes, but one thing to work as a punch: do not do this for fun, much less to love or even sympathy. When not working is another thing. You who do you do?
- occasionally, almost nothing. I write, but not public, I write poetry, but can not remember.
- What a shame, you could dirmene one, I like poetry, but I do not remember ... yes, I remember, you want to hear?
- Come on!
- So ...
"dear moon, beautiful moon hanging
nests on rooftops and
ove dorme la rondinella
perché mi guardi e sorridi?
Perché mi guardi e mi baci?
...aspetta, non me la ricordo più... ah sì, ora risponde la luna:
Ti guardo perché mi piaci
coi tuoi semplici occhi nuovi
sorrido perché mi commuovi
coi tuoi teneri occhi fidi
coi tuoi limpidi occhi onesti:
ti bacio perché ti resti
un ricordo soave
quando il tempo verrà
che sarai uomo grave
e avrai persa la chiave
della Felicità.”
- Bella, una poesia tenera, con una punta di malinconia. L’hai scritta tu?
- No, è di un poeta che si chiamava.... aspetta, mi pare Novaro.
- Mmh, yes Angiolo Silvio Novaro, a little-known poet, wrote mainly, or solely, poems for children.
- For the read me this poem when I was little my mother. How old are you?
- Twenty-nine.
- I thought more, I'm thirty-four.
- I thought not.
was lying, she was beautiful, but a little worn out and demonstrated a few years more, especially seeing it in broad daylight, yet the small scars of time, the fine lines between the eyes and temples, more visible when he laughed at the corners of the mouth and on the chin, in a way that I can not explain better and better, I would say that its dignified beauty, especially as his slender body and proportionate, his manner and his voice was full of youth.
- Caesar, but you do not ask me anything? Will not you even know why I make this life?
- If you do not want to tell me I ask you, if you want to talk I'm listening pleasure, however, as I'm concerned everyone does what he wants, or can, I never judge. None.
- I ran away from home at eighteen, I started with a slacker because I had married, but shortly afterwards it disappeared and was made to review only ask for money, then I found another one worse than him and are arrived here, where I am today. Also ended with him for some time. I do not have relationships with their parents, they've cut. He came here once my brother read me the life, also gave me two slaps, since then I have not seen or heard any of them, just as well, going to the dogs!
- Maybe, in their own way, I love you ...
- If they take their own good! Now I'm alone, I'm good! Do not put me with anyone, not even a rich one. Every so often I find some poor fool who wants to marry me, I tell the customers, who want to change my life and promises heaven and earth. I send them to hell, everybody! Every so often there is someone who gives me his advice, for my own good: priests, good people, everyone seems interested in me, my life, you have nothing better to do? You at least not I say nothing.
- Life is yours. I'm not saying there is nothing better to do, but if you like it ....
- not that I like .... so. I have not found better, then maybe, who knows, some day I fell in love with someone, I fall in love for real, not to fix, not for money or for a family or make me like shit, I do not say that to stop making life It depends. Of course the years go by more and more it's hard, I'll have to force quit one time or another, but who cares! The future will not give a damn, I'm here now and stop. And you, you think about the future?
- I do not know what I'll do a quarter of an hour, I figured if I the future. Sometimes I wish that there was not at all: I really do not find good reasons to continue living, but also to kill you need a good reason.
- For example?
- for example because of a great love that you can not create, a great love, indescribable, to be dismissed, even ridiculed here is a good reason to shoot himself. Unfortunately so far the stories I have always had carried out, sometimes without even looking for them too, and have always concluded, with pain, but not enough.
- You're not in love?
- by contrast, are almost always, but never the love I mean. Also in this period I have a girlfriend, I do not know how to describe it, a friend, a lover. One sees occasionally, sometimes often, for a few days, you go around, have fun a bit ', sometimes we cry together, some tenderness, a little' about sex, maybe for two months we do not even call and someday, I think soon, all will end, perhaps with a little fight, recriminations, scenes, trains, perhaps without any of this, quietly.
- but would like to find true love?
- I've found so far, you probably have never even tried, but I am sure that one day I'll find him suddenly, without understanding the reason: it will be an overwhelming love, but certainly you misunderstand my feelings will remain cold and indifferent to my love, not like me at all, and then tells me to not bother me. And finally I find a good reason to kill me.
- For a woman like that?
- This is love, that's life, but then why am I telling you my affairs and my ideas? Do you care?
- Yes, to know a bit, 'I told you that I never talk to anyone, sometimes I do not really want, but sometimes it's hard. Look, it remained one of your cigarette, the smoke there to turn, or be bothered?
- What do you mean? I also chew gum already chewed how do you feel disgust for another human being? I'm not capable.
He looked at me with wide eyes, the face you could read what he was thinking: "Look at that fellow, I went to meet tonight!" Then we talked
really all thoughts of running away, hopes that die, the that dreams are made, and someone was the same. At one point she had nothing more to tell, and then it was my turn to speak to me, the wandering youth, anarchism political and existential, a son away and virtually unknown, the piano bar, rock n 'roll , a motorcycle accident, the need to write the same things as always. It happened a little ' to laugh and a bit 'to be moved, and then, as always, let me drag the whirlwind of words, until at a certain point I realized that more than half an hour talking only me. I stopped. The look was tired of Patrizia, but this, he stretched his back, spreading his arms, squinted and smiled.
- What do you know, Caesar.
- because of my curiosity, but the fact is that I remember them all. But if one stops to think about it, everyone, you realize you know so much more than images, just do not care. You too, you should try.
- I do not know anything.
- For example, do not forget to learn a poem, and instead you know, you have me that before! I bet you never thought you were there.
- It's true!
- Who knows how many other things I do not think you know but ... listen: there's a game that I always did as a boy, pulling a letter of the alphabet at random and then, in turn, must be established early to say one thing: flowers, objects, cities, actors, writers, singers, animals, anything that begins with that letter.
- I like it.
- All right, you will see how many things in mind, let's start ... from what?
- From the names of singers ... no, the city, but only Italian cities.
- Start you: the name of an Italian city that starts with the letter ...
I pointed the finger on the page of a magazine was removed and the letter "p" she said immediately Pavia, Piacenza quickly followed, Potenza, Padova, Parma, Pescara, some other city with a longer pause, until you after a certain silence, and I threatened to count to five and if she had not found another city in that while assigning them one point ahead, slammed his hand on his forehead and laughing almost cried
- What are silly: Prasco !
- Prasco? What's that?
- Like what?!? It's my country!
- And where is he?
- Near Acqui, you have not never really heard?
- see I do not know many things as you say then? Among other things, you win the first game, with the P I can not think of anything more right.
picked up a piece of notebook paper, drew a line between, on the one hand wrote "Patrick" and other "Caesar", and then scored a point on his side, saying that those who arrived first would win ten points. After a few rounds into the city we passed the flowers, she took out the letter "g" and I began with "Lily," she said, "Grisantemo".
- Oh no, we say Chrysanthemum, with the "c"!
- Really? So ... gi ... gi ... Sunflower!
- Ah, I wanted to tell me! So ... gi ... ge ... Geranium.
- Geranium? And I say ... I say ..... Gemmadisole!
- What flower is this? I've never heard.
- is the most beautiful flower that exist, the rarest, most fragrant, the most delicate ...
- But how? What color is he?
- The Gemmadisole is .... I do not know, I made up myself now, no seriously. You have won this match.
- No instead, it's so nice name! Maybe there really: yes, I have decided that the Gemmadisole really exist.
- What color is he?
- Red, no, yellow .... orange, here! And it is the flower most good that exists, like you said, and you'll see that some day I'll bring one, maybe for your birthday. But now we change the game: you think of something, anything, I have six questions to which you have available to respond with sincerity after the sixth question, I'll have to guess what you thought.
- What's playing? I'm not saying money or material things, but a prize for the winner, or a penance for losing, we want to make the game more interesting.
- Yes, you're right, do this: if I guess what did you think I'll give you a kiss.
- if I do not guess?
- guess Unless you give me a kiss.
not guessed, he had thought of the word "Happiness" and I was completely wrong way, asking if he was a human being, an animal or mineral, if it was edible, liquid or gas, she laughed in taste, as you may never had happened to her in life, I threw myself at the end there:
- Have you thought about a Gemmadisole? Kissing
laughing will not be exciting, but it's beautiful. There was a flash, the power went out, and in the darkness the sudden explosion of thunder made her scream with fright and surprise. Embraced the strong, trembling, now he was crying, but it was not only fear, and then pressed her harder, and in silence, let me find out, I cried with her. When the light returned, there was still time to play, remember, joking, I found that are ticklish, and it was another chance to see her laugh to tears. We were sitting in front, she carefully folded the paper he had used to keep score as if it were something to be preserved, then his eyes and his calm smile, I appeared tired, rested his head on the table and closed his eyes.
- Are you sleepy?
- A little bit, I happen at this time. I have another coffee?
- Let it be, is very late, close on seven. You'd better go.
- Where do you go?
- I'm going home, waiting for me. I'm going to hitchhike to the bridge, I find people who work at this time in Valencia many know them, give me a ride for sure.
- I'll take you home ...
- No, rested, then you must, go back, but those are still there. Maybe another time.
- I enjoyed it for so long.
- Some evenings we meet again, I'll take my poems, but they are not so happy, maybe we play something else, go to dinner somewhere, in short, have fun!
- I have always been there in the evening, where you found me.
- Then I know where you live.
- Yeah, I know.
- Now it's time to go, you rest, I beg you, remember to smile as you can, I told you that when you smile you are very beautiful, So always smile, do not get caught with sadness, for any reason, e. .. Patrick hello, hello, blond.
- Hello blond.
was the first sentence that I had turned and was identical to the last, because from that moment I saw her more. I reviewed many times by the road where I met her, sometimes by chance alone, never alone, always in the car with some friends, but it was never there: maybe it was the wrong one hour, maybe it was out with some customers. One evening, by chance, I found myself in his house, I paused, his name was not there and the last name I never knew, I played two or three bells at random hoping to find it, or possibly to seek information from some close, but no one answered, and finally gave up. Then he went a bit 'of time, maybe a year, even two, was almost out from my memory.
One evening in a bar, talking by chance with a guy who knows all the stories about the environment, I knew that was then placed with a guy I barely knew, I had spoken two or three times in circumstances that not even remember. So he found love.
He was two years younger than her, a guy as good as a piece of bread and sad as a concert by Pietro Locatelli, ten years was addicted to drugs. Had moved to a village in Liguria, or perhaps nell'Ovadese Scrivia Valley, he had tried to escape from hell of the hole, but we were not successful, and then she, too, to love him, because he was not alone in his suffering, had entered her in the same hell.
And finally she was dead, perhaps by accident, overdose, murder, perhaps because exhausted by that life, perhaps by choice, perhaps consumed by some disease that does not forgive, I never knew, I do not even want to know. I just wish it on his grave, wherever it is, every day someone posasse a Gemmadisole.
No thunder, as violent, she will be more afraid. Perhaps, somewhere that is beyond our understanding and even the imagination, will find the island where he wanted to live, no matter if and the Caribbean, and even on this planet, so beautiful, so sad.
course will be somewhere in this or other universes, dominated the game and love, and there just smiling.
"Unless you become like children
not enter the kingdom of heaven"
(end)
