{"id":9858,"date":"2013-07-30T18:55:56","date_gmt":"2013-07-30T16:55:56","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/egophobia.ro\/?p=9858"},"modified":"2013-07-30T23:01:18","modified_gmt":"2013-07-30T21:01:18","slug":"giardinieri","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/?p=9858","title":{"rendered":"Giardinieri"},"content":{"rendered":"

de Radu P\u0103rp\u0103u\u0163\u0103
\nclick here<\/a> for the English version\n<\/p>\n

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\nFirenze. Via Giambologna – o strad\u0103 lini\u015ftit\u0103 \u015fi umbroas\u0103, cu ville <\/i>cochete, multicolore. Dinspre cap\u0103tul \u00een pant\u0103 al str\u0103zii vin trei b\u0103rba\u0163i \u00een pas agale: doi au cam cincizeci de ani, al treilea nici treizeci. To\u0163i s\u00eent \u00eembr\u0103ca\u0163i \u00een ni\u015fte combinezoane albastre, iar pe spatele lor scrie mare, cu litere albe: GIARDINIERI. Cel t\u00een\u0103r \u00eempinge alene pe mijlocul str\u0103zii un tomberon mobil de plastic: mic, alb-albastru, cu tot felul de ro\u0163i \u015fi roti\u0163e – parc\u0103 e de juc\u0103rie.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Din urm\u0103 \u00eenoat\u0103 prin aerul torid ceilal\u0163i doi, care discut\u0103 tot a\u015fa, \u00een ritmul lui “ho, c\u0103 nu dau n\u0103val\u0103 t\u0103tarii!” S\u00eent rom\u00e2ni. Nea Vasile, un moldovean din Murgenii Vasluiului, \u00ee\u015fi continu\u0103 povestea:<\/p>\n

– \u015ei tataia \u00eemi zicea de bunelu’, c\u0103 avea o pereche de cai roibi: mari, frumo\u015fi. Tare se mai f\u0103lo\u015fe cu ei! \u015ei c\u00eend o venit ru\u015fii, \u015ftii, c\u00eend s-o rupt frontu’, intr\u0103 o rusoaic\u0103 \u00een ograd\u0103 la noi \u015fi se duce drept \u00een grajd, la cai. Scoate afar\u0103 caii \u015fi d\u0103 s\u0103 plece cu ei. Da’ bunelu’ \u00eei iese \u00eenainte cu furca: “Niet! Niet!” face bunelu’. Rusoaica era pe cal, cu un c\u0103ciuloi de ceala buhos \u00een cap, \u015fi \u0163ine fr\u00eeul cu m\u00eena dreapt\u0103, c\u0103 st\u00eenga o ave t\u0103iat\u0103\u00a0 mai sus de cot. Atunci ea las\u0103 fr\u00eeul din m\u00een\u0103 \u015fi scoate pistolul de la br\u00eeu: poc! poc! trage de c\u00eeteva ori \u00een aer. \u015ei-l \u00eempinge pe bunelu’ cu calul. Tataia, avea vro cin\u015fpe ani pe-atunci, sare la bunelu’ \u015fi-l trage \u00eenapoi: “E\u015fti nebun, tataie, vrei c\u0103 te-mpu\u015fte?!” Pe urm\u0103 o venit \u015fi comandantul lor: “Lena, Lena” striga la ea \u015fi-i ordona nu \u015ftiu ce. Rusoica s-o-ntors \u015fi-o plecat, da’ tot o luat caii lu’ bunelu’. \u015ei zicea lumea prin sat c\u0103 ea era nervoas\u0103, fiindc\u0103 \u00eei omor\u00eese nem\u0163ii pe omu’ cu care se iubea ea…<\/p>\n

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O vreme merg \u00een t\u0103cere. Apoi tot nea Vasile, care pare c\u0103 e \u015feful, \u00eei zice celui din fa\u0163\u0103 cu tomberonul:<\/p>\n

– Aici, Fane. Scoate marfa! Fane se opre\u015fte, deschide tomberonul \u015fi scoate un sac murdar de rafie. Din sac trage afar\u0103 o pisic\u0103 cenu\u015fie moart\u0103.<\/p>\n

– Uite colo! zice nea Vasile \u015fi \u00eei arat\u0103 lui Fane \u00eenspre o vil\u0103 somptuoas\u0103 din terra cotta<\/i>, \u00eenecat\u0103 \u00een verdea\u0163\u0103. \u00cen curte se plimba agitat un c\u00eeine cu botul ridat, l\u0103sat \u00een jos \u00eentr-o expresie de perplexitate. Fane apuc\u0103 pisica de coad\u0103 \u015fi, cump\u0103nindu-se pe picioare, o arunc\u0103 peste gardu\u0163ul din s\u00eerm\u0103 o\u0163elit\u0103 drept sub botul c\u00eeinelui. Perplexitatea de pe chipul c\u00eeinelui se face \u015fi mai mare. Miroase le\u015ful pisicii \u015fi \u00eencepe s\u0103 latre cu spume. Cei trei b\u0103rba\u0163i \u00ee\u015fi aprind \u0163ig\u0103rile \u015fi se trag mai la umbr\u0103.<\/p>\n

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Dup\u0103 vreo zece minute de l\u0103tr\u0103turi furibunde, iese afar\u0103 o femeie gras\u0103, care nu duce lips\u0103 de f\u0103lci \u015fi de gu\u015f\u0103, cu un turban mov, c\u00eet un turn. Se aud o vreme trop\u0103ieli, forfoteli, exclama\u0163ii. Apoi femeia \u00eei vede pe “giardinieri”, care stau la o parte, dar nu at\u00eet de “la o parte”, ca s\u0103 nu fie v\u0103zu\u0163i.<\/p>\n

– Giardinieri! Giardinieri! Aiuto! Aiuto! \u015fi le face semn s\u0103 vin\u0103. Nea Panait, un tip de pe la Br\u0103ila, cu musta\u0163a sub\u0163ire, de pi\u015ficher, zice pe dat\u0103:<\/p>\n

– Si, signora, vengo subito.<\/p>\n

– Aiut\u0103m, aiut\u0103m, zice \u015fi nea Vasile \u00eentr-o italo-rom\u00e2n\u0103 sui-generis. \u00cen curte femeia, cu ochii umezi \u015fi expresia plin\u0103 de mil\u0103 a unor pietre ude, le arat\u0103 pisica:<\/p>\n

– Ecco! Un gatto!.<\/p>\n

– No problem, seniora, no problem. Subito! zice nea Panait \u015fi face gesturi largi de lini\u015ftire.<\/p>\n

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Iau pisica, o bag\u0103 \u00een sacul de rafie pe care-l arunc\u0103 \u00een tomberon, m\u0103tur\u0103 tacticos curtea, care, dealtminteri, nici nu avea nevoie s\u0103 fie m\u0103turat\u0103, \u00eendreapt\u0103 ni\u015fte pergole \u015fi un <\/i>vaso da fiori<\/i> <\/i>din piatr\u0103, \u00een stil moresco<\/i>.<\/p>\n

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Dup\u0103 vreun sfert de ceas nea Panaite bate \u00een u\u015fa metalic\u0103:<\/p>\n

– Ho finito, seniora.<\/p>\n

– Grazie, molto grazie! Da dove siete?<\/p>\n

– Romania, seniora.<\/p>\n

– A, romeni, molto gentili romeni, zice femeia, cl\u0103tin\u00eend aprobator turnul mov.<\/p>\n

– Grazie, seniora.<\/p>\n

– Subito, zice femeia \u015fi dispare \u00een cas\u0103. Se aud mobile tr\u00eentite, sertare trase. Pe urm\u0103 femeia apare cu ni\u015fte bani \u00een m\u00een\u0103.<\/p>\n

– O, no, no, no, seniora.<\/p>\n

– Spiccioli, spiccioli, se justific\u0103 femeia, adic\u0103 m\u0103run\u0163i\u015f, \u015fi \u00eendeas\u0103 banii \u00een m\u00eena lui Panait.<\/p>\n

– Mille grazie, seniora.<\/p>\n

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Apoi cei trei se dep\u0103rteaz\u0103 \u00eencet. Panait num\u0103r\u0103 banii \u015fi \u00eei \u00eemparte la to\u0163i. Dup\u0103 cei trei se ia c\u00eeinele cu botul ridat \u015fi cu ochi umezi, ca \u015fi ai st\u0103p\u00eenei lui. Se \u00eenv\u00eerte \u00een jurul tomberonului, miroase \u015fi scheaun\u0103.<\/p>\n

– Ia uite, ‘\u0103i – zice Vasile – parc\u0103-i c\u00eene poli\u0163ist. \u015ei-l love\u015fte cu piciorul \u00een coaste, dar nu prea tare. C\u00eeinele aproape c\u0103 nu se mi\u015fc\u0103: pare c\u0103 nu \u015ftie ce-nseamn\u0103 s-o ia pe cocoa\u015f\u0103.<\/p>\n

– Fane! zice scurt Vasile, f\u0103c\u00eend semn cu ochii \u00eenspre c\u00eeine. Fane apuc\u0103 o m\u0103tur\u0103, pe care tocmai o ag\u0103\u0163ase cu ni\u015fte cheutori de tomberon, \u015fi-i tr\u00eente\u015fte una c\u00eeinelui drept pe spinare: \u00eendesat, h\u00eec\u00eeit, ciob\u0103ne\u015fte. “Schel\u0103lau, schel\u0103lau, schel\u0103lau” se vait\u0103 c\u00eeinele ca o cotarl\u0103 oarecare \u015fi o zbughe\u015fte cu coada \u00eentre picioare. Pesemne c\u0103 a sim\u0163it prima oar\u0103 pe… blana lui distan\u0163a enorm\u0103 care separ\u0103 Firenze de Ferentari.<\/p>\n

– Du-te \u015fi te pl\u00eenge la madam Bardot, zice Panait din urma c\u00eeinelui.<\/p>\n

– \u015ei s\u0103 ne trimit\u0103 c\u00eete-un otograf, completeaz\u0103 Vasile.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Pe urm\u0103 Panait porne\u015fte iar\u0103\u015fi o poveste despre cai:<\/p>\n

– Erau la noi la Corbu doi: unu’ nea Ion \u015fi unu’ Ilarion. \u015ei al naibii le pl\u0103ceau caii la am\u00eendoi. C\u00eend se \u00eent\u00eelneau, erau buni prieteni, vorbeau numai de cai. Se luau la \u00eentrecere, care \u015ftie mai multe de cai. C\u00eend ie\u015fea primul Ion, c\u00eend Ilarion. Tot voiau s\u0103 se dovedeasc\u0103 unul pe altul. A\u015fa\u00a0 s-au \u00eentrecut toat\u0103 via\u0163a. Dup\u0103 aceea Ion s-a \u00eemboln\u0103vit \u015fi era pe patul mor\u0163ii. \u00cel cheam\u0103 pe Ilarion la el \u015fi \u00eei zice: “M\u0103i, Ilarioane, eu am s\u0103 mor. Tu mi-ai fost prietenul meu cel mai bun, a\u015fa c\u0103 am rug\u0103minte la tine. C\u00eend mor, s\u0103 m\u0103 pune\u0163i jos \u00een curtea bisericii \u015fi s\u0103 sari de trei ori cu calul peste mine”. Bineee! Moare nea Ion. La \u00eenmorm\u00eentare au pus sicriul jos \u00een curte \u015fi nenea Ilarion a venit preg\u0103tit cu caii s\u0103 sar\u0103 peste Ion. D\u0103 \u00eencoace, d\u0103 \u00eencolo, bate caii – nu voiau caii s\u0103 sar\u0103. Lumea a \u00eenceput s\u0103 r\u00eed\u0103…<\/p>\n

– \u015etiu – \u00eel \u00eentrerupe nea Vasile – calul nu sare niciodat\u0103 peste mort. A\u015fa c\u0103 nen-tu Ilarion s-o f\u0103cut de r\u00ees. Apoi Vasile continu\u0103 preocupat:<\/p>\n

– Azi mai \u00eencerc\u0103m o dat\u0103. M\u00eeine pornim mai diminea\u0163\u0103, pe la opt. \u015ei, Fane, s\u0103 faci rost de-o m\u00ee\u0163\u0103 nou\u0103, c\u0103 asta o-nceput s\u0103 put\u0103. Ai \u00een\u0163eles?<\/p>\n

– ‘les,\u00a0 face Fane.<\/p>\n

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Cei trei se \u00eendep\u0103rteaz\u0103. Pe cerul amurgului se profileaz\u0103, compact\u0103 \u015fi sumbr\u0103, capodopera lui Bruneleschi – Santa Maria del Fiore<\/i>, cu vestita ei cupol\u0103, despre care Stendhal a zis c\u0103 \u00eel las\u0103 prad\u0103 nebuniei ca \u00een preajma unei femei iubite. Dar giardinierii nu o bag\u0103 \u00een seam\u0103. Iar de Bruneleschi nici n-au auzit.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

de Radu P\u0103rp\u0103u\u0163\u0103 click here for the English version   Firenze. Via Giambologna – o strad\u0103 lini\u015ftit\u0103 \u015fi umbroas\u0103, cu ville cochete, multicolore. Dinspre cap\u0103tul \u00een pant\u0103 al str\u0103zii vin trei b\u0103rba\u0163i \u00een pas agale: doi au cam cincizeci de ani, al treilea nici treizeci. To\u0163i s\u00eent \u00eembr\u0103ca\u0163i \u00een ni\u015fte combinezoane albastre, iar pe spatele […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[986,393],"tags":[1164,54,353],"class_list":["post-9858","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-egophobia-38","category-prozascurta","tag-egophobia-38","tag-proza-scurta","tag-radu-parpauta"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6DakB-2z0","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9858","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=9858"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9858\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":9862,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9858\/revisions\/9862"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=9858"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=9858"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=9858"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}