Friday, February 11, 2011

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Gennaretti Ipocrisalide, Matthew's account Girardi



Pubblico un racconto di Matteo Girardi:
GENNARETTO EL'IPOCRISALIDE
Gennaretti was a bold and headstrong teenager who lived in Calow, a small town spread among the green hills of the province of Como. He came from rather rigid and formal education, where every action and reaction corrospondeva where everything was governed by the so-called "good practice": "So do not say! So do not do it! It 'better to say so! E' better say there! Reply to this Post Reply there "were the perennial nursery rhymes of his parents who rang in her head and never abandoned him, as an indelible mark. Gennaretti But within himself he felt suffocated by all these customs and rituals, that the life of every day, with friends, relatives and acquaintances of the imponevia continuous. He felt within him the passion to be himself, he felt the desire to live in a world of simple and transparent. When
Gennaretti quarreled with his parents, he used to take refuge in his bedroom, or going to the balcony and sat there, enjoying the little movement there was in his little rural world. But that Wednesday's attention was drawn Gennaretti dall'indaffarato sport of her neighbor, Mrs. Clotilde Viganò. Mrs. Vigar was an old lady, famous in the country to be a person rather surly: he was married but had an argument with suo marito e dopo pochi mesi si separarono, aveva due figli ed anch’essi se ne andarono di casa ancora prima di essere maggiorenni. Si diceva che avesse anche un cane, ma anche lui girava voce sembrava avesse fatto armi e bagagli e se ne fosse andato. Quella sera all’imbrunire la signora Viganò stava annaffiando con estrema precisione un piccolo pezzetto di orto, e lo faceva in una maniera talmente chirurgica, che destò la curiosità di Gennaretto. Cosa stava mai coltivando la signora Viganò? Gennaretto corse a prendere il cannocchiale di suo padre e puntando lo strumento al suo giardino, vide dei fiori completamente azzurri, con una forma rotondeggiamente, che sembravano un pezzo di cielo planato sul giardino della signora, e del quale she took care with maternal heart. Gennaretti, lowered his telescope, he felt pervaded by a strong curiosity, and without saying anything, walked down the road that went to the house of Mrs. Vigar and, with his hands in his pockets and whistling vacuum, skirted the home of Mrs. .
arrived in front of the fence, making sure that there was no one, stretched his neck and his pupils ranging curiosity, peered closely: he saw a house completely out of order, nothing was symmetrical, the two chairs were rusty and thrown to the air, the grass was quite high and fallow and empty buckets were left there by who knows how long. But in the midst of this bizarre piece of architecture, there was this small well-kept garden, and the splendor of the flowers. "The spies are cousins \u200b\u200bof the thieves !!!", came a hoarse voice from behind the fence. Mrs. Viganò, behind the hedge, laughing deeply embarrassing Gennaretti: "Excuse me, um, I was looking at her flowers ........" She detached voice:" Come on ....... .. " Gennaretti opened the creaky gate and walked with measured step closer to the flowers: "These flowers are special," said the lady, "called Ipocrisalidi, flowers are one of my great-uncle who brought me from China before getting married." The flowers were incredibly la forma di un cuore e persino il gambo aveva un colore azzurrognolo. “Vedi, caro ragazzo, questi fiori rinfrancano l’anima: chi ne beve l’infuso, perde il difetto dell’ipocrisia, io ne bevo una tazza ogni pomeriggio”. Gennaretto, incuriosito da tale fatto, chiese gentilmente di poter aver un sacchettino di tali fiori celestiali. La signora borbottando acconsentì, e Gennaretto congedatosi se ne tornò a casa e data l’ora ormai tarda  se ne andò a letto. Ma quella notte non riuscì proprio a dormire, e appena il sole bussò all’orizzonte, Gennaretto si svegliò e preparò l’infuso di ipocrisalidi. Appena pronto ne bevve una buona tazza e, a sua sorpresa, si sentì as he understood everything in life. Meanwhile approached noon, that day was a special day because it was his birthday, and the whole family had gathered. After dinner, his aunt Roberta, who was the wife of a well-known entrepreneur in the textile sector Como, made him a present, he opened it was a yellow sweater and green. His mother told Gennaretti: "Thank the aunt of the beautiful gift." Gennaretti, innarcò eyebrows, looked straight into his aunt ocche and said: "With all the money you have, you could give me something better!" His mother scared hearing these words from your child's hair grew an inch "But Gennaretti but ....... say ......." His aunt changed the expression on his face ten thousand times within fractions of a second. Gennaretti rose from the table and walked away casually, leaving behind lightning and thunderbolts. At two o'clock in the afternoon had an appointment with his girlfriend, Clara, were together for several months, and he was very fond of. They met in the local bar in Piazza del Municipio, and having exchanged pleasantries and the latest news, took a drink, cranberry juice him and her a Coke. While waiting to be served, as usual Gennaretti noticed the lipstick mark of his girlfriend. Something big was going down the throat of Gennaretti, and when something came in my mouth, at one point he said: "With lipstick that seems to me the grandson of Moana Pozzi," Clara had tears in their eyes in disbelief, and resignation to do and went with feigned indifference, leaving only Gennaretti. That something in her mouth was now back down in the stomach, but with a more bitter taste. He was desperate, could not understand what he said wrong, he felt pure and innocent. Then phoned his best friend Lucius, that given the mood of Gennaretti, met him at a bar nearby. Just sitting at a table, Lucio wanted to know what had happened. "I had an argument with Clara," said Gennaretti. And Lucio asked "Why?" "Nothing, I made a small observation. " Lucio and embarrassed by the easy-going friend comforted brotherly "But you know well that the women are all alike." There was a moment of silence, then turned his head mechanically Gennaretti to Lucio and said, "What do you know of women that the only woman who has kissed your mama!" Lucius froze, barely reached the handle of the door of the bar, and went along the battered pavement. Now Gennaretti was truly alone, he and his empty glass. He left with his hands in his pocket, went home at sunset. Looking for a handkerchief to his nagging cold, took out the bag at the same time the flowers of ipocrisalide. The rational part is active as a powerful computer arrived at the solution. "Yes, no doubt. The flowers of Mrs. Clotilde ....... they were taking him to ruin. " With my heart in my throat and the Adam's apple that looked like a second nose, she hastened stealthily toward the house. He stopped in front of the garbage bin, he stretched out his arms, and before you drop the bag into oblivion ipocrisalidi the box, and spoke these words: "Goodbye to All That, if hypocrisy and 'A DISEASE, AND I HOLD ME LA COSI 'SIA! "

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