Stories and News No. 741
Once upon a time there was a republic.
I will not say what it was founded on.
So I will avoid to make fun of you.
The republic which I will not tell you what it was founded on was still.
Now, we all know that in the world republics do not go out for a walk.
The republics do not emigrate.
Those are the mutilated souls.
In search of the missing fragment.
Even if it means losing everything else.
Nevertheless, it is a good thing when human travelers decide to pursue common horizons. You might call them republic, as even gang or band, what matters is that at least one of those horizons is every day closer.
Otherwise there is wasted asphalt on the road.
And even if there is no more evidence on the way, someone has spent blood and dreams to draw it.
Yet, that republic was still.
Because it was always stopped on the same day.
The hours looked at each other puzzled.
The minutes seemed to be surprised.
And the seconds... well, if hours and minutes do not know, why you look for truth on the last row?
The next day was a mirage.
In fact, a lot of talking started, round tables or any plausible shape, writing hands ran on the keys, fast tongues were screaming, but no light was sighted over the obstacle.
Night, yes.
Sunset and nightfall, all according to script.
But the new day was something that only the tellers of fairytales dared to touch.
With the seemingly harmless illusion of light words.
Sure, it was not a common day, the place which people were trapped on, like in a giant snakes and ladders game.
Still a ride, indeed, one day, the condemnation.
Until that day will last, the classic written in small warning.
A wonderful day.
The first of possibly many others.
The day the rivers of hopes and ambitions, shared stories and feelings fed by other feelings and stories, all the life that you want to leave to posterity, are again yours.
Free.
Pleasant sounding words, there is no doubt, for healthy hearts.
However, the republic was still.
On that day.
Because if at any moment someone were to dare not only torturing the common achievements, but also claiming with stupidity disguised as pride of being one of the cowardly guilty and be ready to do it again a thousand times...
Well, it means that that day is not yet over.
Dawn has not yet come.
And there is still so much.
To fight for.
Read other stories with morals.
Italian storytelling with subtitles
Also on Stories and News:
Once upon a time there was a republic.
So I will avoid to make fun of you.
The republic which I will not tell you what it was founded on was still.
Now, we all know that in the world republics do not go out for a walk.
The republics do not emigrate.
Those are the mutilated souls.
In search of the missing fragment.
Even if it means losing everything else.
Nevertheless, it is a good thing when human travelers decide to pursue common horizons. You might call them republic, as even gang or band, what matters is that at least one of those horizons is every day closer.
Otherwise there is wasted asphalt on the road.
And even if there is no more evidence on the way, someone has spent blood and dreams to draw it.
Yet, that republic was still.
Because it was always stopped on the same day.
The hours looked at each other puzzled.
The minutes seemed to be surprised.
And the seconds... well, if hours and minutes do not know, why you look for truth on the last row?
The next day was a mirage.
In fact, a lot of talking started, round tables or any plausible shape, writing hands ran on the keys, fast tongues were screaming, but no light was sighted over the obstacle.
Night, yes.
Sunset and nightfall, all according to script.
But the new day was something that only the tellers of fairytales dared to touch.
With the seemingly harmless illusion of light words.
Sure, it was not a common day, the place which people were trapped on, like in a giant snakes and ladders game.
Still a ride, indeed, one day, the condemnation.
Until that day will last, the classic written in small warning.
A wonderful day.
The first of possibly many others.
The day the rivers of hopes and ambitions, shared stories and feelings fed by other feelings and stories, all the life that you want to leave to posterity, are again yours.
Free.
Pleasant sounding words, there is no doubt, for healthy hearts.
However, the republic was still.
On that day.
Because if at any moment someone were to dare not only torturing the common achievements, but also claiming with stupidity disguised as pride of being one of the cowardly guilty and be ready to do it again a thousand times...
Well, it means that that day is not yet over.
Dawn has not yet come.
And there is still so much.
To fight for.
Read other stories with morals.
Watch the video:
Italian storytelling with subtitles
Also on Stories and News: