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Journal of Italian Translation - Brooklyn College - Academic Home ...

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Blossom S. Kirschenbaum / Stefano Benni<br />

plenty <strong>of</strong> women.<br />

“But I was never so heroically impassioned and defeated,<br />

never desired a woman with such great torment, to me nothing is<br />

more dear and cruel than that memory.<br />

“For this, today I yield my enterprise to you, buyer friends. I<br />

yield it in an unforeseen and inexplicable way, someone has said.<br />

But there is a motive in my haste, and in my desire to conclude<br />

everything today.”<br />

The old man closed his eyes and for a moment he seemed<br />

oveRcome with emotion, then he resumed:<br />

“For almost fifty years, every day <strong>of</strong> the year I sent a rose to<br />

Florence. Without seeking to see her again, without a card, only<br />

one anonymous and splendid rose, different every time. But I<br />

won’t be sending them any more. Three days ago I learned that<br />

she is dead. Nothing interests me any more in this world. The<br />

flowers that I have developed, my business, my fortune, were born<br />

and grew to heal the wound <strong>of</strong> that day. I know that many <strong>of</strong> you<br />

consider me a cynical and unscrupulous operator. Maybe I am<br />

that, or have been that. But even my thorns have a flower. The<br />

flower is a memory. Now you know the truth. Pardon me, if I<br />

have bored you with an old man’s sad story.”<br />

A moment <strong>of</strong> silence passed. Then the leather chairs creaked,<br />

a buzzing arose, and one <strong>of</strong> those present got to his feet. He was a<br />

man with a leonine white mane, another boss, as was demonstrated<br />

by the fact that he had been seated opposite the old man.<br />

He spoke, and he was not ashamed that his eyes were full <strong>of</strong> tears.<br />

“It’s a very lovely story, Commendatore. We are honored to<br />

be acquiring your business and to be carrying forward your work,<br />

born in a manner so unfortunate and noble. We will sign the contract<br />

this very day.”<br />

“Thank you,” said the old man, “and good luck.”<br />

He went out leaning on his cane, accompanied by the secretary.<br />

From all those around him he felt the commiserating and<br />

admiring eyes.<br />

He retired to his private <strong>of</strong>fice. His secretary served him a<br />

cup <strong>of</strong> tea. He took a sip, then laughed.<br />

“They lapped it up …”<br />

“I think so,” said the secretary.<br />

57

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