One of Many Epilogues

One of Many Epilogues

Oh, Ninarieddo, you remember that dream...
We talked about so many times...
I was in the car, leaving alone, with the seat
empty beside me, and you were running up from behind;
at the side of the door, still half open,
running anxious and persistent, you were yelling
with a touch of child-like weeping in your voice:
"A, Pa', take me with you? I'll pay for the journey?"
It was the journey of a life: and only in a dream
did you dare to uncover yourself and ask me something.
You know well that dream is a part of reality;
and it is not a dream Ninetto who said those words,
so well that you blush when we discuss it.

Last evening, at Arezzo, in the silence of night,
while the guard was closing the gate with a chain,
behind your back, and you were about to vanish,
with your smile, flashing and comic, you said... "Thank you!"
"Thank you" Ninè? It's the first time you say that to me.
And indeed, you notice, and correct yourself, without losing face,
(an art you are master of) joking:
"Thank you for the passage." The journey you wanted
me to pay you for, it was, I repeat, the journey of a life:
it is in that dream from three, four years ago that I decided
what my hesitant love for freedom was against.
If now, you thank me for the passage... God,
while you're in lockdown, I'll take with fear
an airplane to some distant place. I am insatiable for life
because one singular thing in the world can never be exhausted.