Journal of Italian Translation - Brooklyn College - Academic Home ...
Journal of Italian Translation - Brooklyn College - Academic Home ...
Journal of Italian Translation - Brooklyn College - Academic Home ...
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Blossom S. Kirschenbaum / Stefano Benni<br />
From La grammatica di Dio by Stefano Benni, translated by Blossom S.<br />
Kirschenbaum, 12 March 2008<br />
A Red Rose<br />
In the conference room about twenty people were seated.<br />
Such an utter silence prevailed that they could hear the bubbles<br />
popping in the bottles <strong>of</strong> mineral water. The serious faces proclaimed<br />
the importance <strong>of</strong> the moment. At the head <strong>of</strong> the table<br />
was an old man with a stern visage. His pointed chin and thick<br />
white eyebrows made him look like a bird <strong>of</strong> prey, a royal eagle<br />
who commanded all the mountain peaks within his domain. Even<br />
if a slight tremor <strong>of</strong> his hands proclaimed the toll that time had<br />
taken, he was the boss, and every glance and gesture revealed it.<br />
“I was sixteen years old,” began the old man, “an age exultant<br />
and pathetic, marvelous and utterly sad. And I wanted, more<br />
than anything else, a girl to love.<br />
“But at age sixteen in that respectable city in that select junior<br />
college, pairing up required possessing two qualities: to be very<br />
rich or very handsome.<br />
”I wasn’t rich, I couldn’t afford a motorcycle, or elegant colorful<br />
argyle pullovers, or stylish sport shirts. I wore, almost yearround,<br />
heavy hand-knitted raw-wool sweaters, and I smelled a bit<br />
<strong>of</strong> camphor.<br />
“Nor was I handsome. I had pimples and was generally unkempt.<br />
Below my mouth was carved a bitter wrinkle, the same<br />
one that I have preserved till now. I was tall, but hunched over<br />
from study, and I always had dirty fingernails, no matter how<br />
hard I tried to take care <strong>of</strong> them.<br />
“However true or false my defects might have been, I suffered<br />
over them, and I kept very much to myself.<br />
“On Sunday afternoons I used to go walking for hours and<br />
hours, from the center <strong>of</strong> town to the furthermost outskirts, looking<br />
with envy at all the couples. Before falling asleep I dreamed<br />
kisses, passionate outbursts, unbridled loves.<br />
“I imagined dialogues and scenes, comedies and dramas, in<br />
which I seduced or yielded to seduction.<br />
“But in reality I was alone. Unjustly, intolerably alone, as<br />
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