traduzione di Taddeo Roccasalda
I know your city and I’m patient. I’ve got the patience of
an unceasing wait. Desperate wait. I know your city. I know where you
live. I know how many you are and I also know how many families you’re
divided into. I know the conditions of your rules. I know the laws regulating
your relations up to the last sophism. You passion for order and command.
I know how you make love. The distance to cover in order to reach you.
I know everything. Everything without seeing it. Everything without having
ever seen anything from closer. I’ll come and catch you during the
night. I’ll come and catch in your sleep. I’ll come when your
city looks safer. I’m patient. I’ve scoured your city and
I know a happy way. I really know it. I’ll try to leave your shoes
paired on each threshold. On the contrary. I’ll leave only the children
shoes. I know them, too. How nice are the shoes they wear! Small. Multicolored.
I know them too ‘cause they look like you. There’s a path
in your life. There are shops full of goods. Some of you keep the books
of the goods, while others keep the books of people. I know the depletion
of both. There are lives. Agl.agl.
I know these lives too. Don’t be afraid. I don’t know everything.
But I know your city. I am omniscient. I’ll come unseen. Some people
are so sensitive that they’re able to perceive an impending danger.
And then it happens that before an earthquake occurs, one these people
scratches his head insistently and whispers to his children he has heard
a noise. No. There is no noise. I’ll be silent. I know what it’s
necessary to look like benefit. To look like salvation. For me, it’ll
be enough to consult some of you. To convince you in your dreams first,
then in the waking. To be your breakfast. To be your mother. I know these
tricks. I know them ‘cause they haven’t been played on me.
Agl. Agl. Agl.
I know your way of waiting confusedly for the future to happen. I know
your ignorance this way. You eagerly fear the impossible. Punctually a
leak happens. One of your plans seems unceasing. Then you change the name
of things, once, twice, thousands of times. I know you for this reason.
I know you ‘cause I had to learn one by one each name you’ve
given to things. I’ve been fated to change. But I know loss. I know
it and know it’s easy to search you. To find you. Agl.
And therefore, as soon as I find you, I’ll be able to call you by
name. Without reading your mind. It would be too easy to read your mind.
It would be a sign of mercy to leave you still the attribution of thought.
It’s not the right way. I won’t act this way. Without reading
your mind, I’ll understand what you want to do from the expression
of your face. From what’s left of your expression. ‘Cause
some of you no longer have it. They’re sum of other people’s
expression sums. I know your ways to learn. What for a long time has been
called honesty in your city. That’s why most of the lives you lead
are honest. You lack expression beyond measure. I say now – thus
– ‘cause I know you well. I know your way of replicating moods.
Of marking cards ambiguously. You tally so well with the edge of what
you’d like to be, the in the end you ‘ll be the edge. I know
it. I know it. I know the way you manage to describe each situation perfectly.
Each expression and use of the sixty-four metaphors. I know your looks
when you want to possess something.
I’m trying to imagine how better your lives could be. I’d
better not. It’s better so. My patience is comprehensive of this