Under his derby the darting of an urchin,
a pair of oversized shoes at feet, minimum of mustache,
supported by a bamboo cane in the narrow ring
over the end’s dusty road, his bundle over the shoulder
brings to cinema a dowry.
He stoops to pick up a flag, fallen from a truck,
we know that’s red, also if the movie is in black and white.
Unexpectedly he stands before the riot
just as last century’ s mankind,
turned and turned round again in a gear age.
Yes, he had to bump against stout men in uniform,
slip through their legs, live in the hovel
and love Paulette Goddard,
he is our undeserved Don Quixote.
He took the destroyer of his people for a ride,
cursing him with the smile.
Nobody in the past century was so much out-of-place,
that’s why of all our time he’ll be the only one
saved by the future’s memory.
Erri De Luca