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scuffle

(fofo from Web)

few years ago, rummaging in drawers that open almost anything, I found an old poem / story in the Sicilian dialect, written from my aunt about the early 30 ', now long gone for many years.
That poem / story, took me to the memory of my childhood years, when traveling with my father for his work for campaigns the plain of Catania, in his old fiat 500 without a radio he used to recite verses in dialect which I had learned. And nothing seemed more beautiful and exciting.
That story had always fascinated me, because it depicted a hypothetical dispute between St. Peter and Pius IX at the gates of paradise because of the riflemen of General La Marmora, who with the help of the sovereign 's Italy Vittorio Emanuele II, had managed to convince the saint, Pius IX was not quite worthy of housing in paradise, while the duo were full of "anti-clerical."
History, intersected and continued with twists to finish with his morals.
that day that I had between the hands, I was still on my wheelchair (which fortunately I have long since abandoned), reading with emotion, I found it unreal that story could have been adapted to a stage a theater and therefore, I decided to talk with the characters of monologues and dialogues, but I did not however remove the rhymes that had characterized the essence of poetry itself, therefore, before letting the characters in the scene I wanted to create figure of a narrator who rhymes in the beginning of each act is about what would happen and how the characters would behave from time time.
Another obstacle was the Sicilian dialect unintelligible to many, so I tried to change some of the nuances without spoiling the story trying to tell all in rhyme.
This poem / story / (stage play) was the real reason why this blog is open today and why I keep writing trying to convey my emotions.
This brief introduction of the play.

"The holy scuffle"

Narrator:

Excuse me,

if I have not yet submitted

is because I am a poet titled,

but it tells you want with a smile,

of what happened one time in paradise.

In the realm of angels and saints,

with the wonder of all the deceased,

the blessed one who opens the door

to Pope Pius IX took them to blows.

If they found the two Popes to quarrel,

is the fault of a foolish general

sharpshooter medals decorated

that now had gone to a better life.

The soldier marched impatiently

heaven looking unrepentant

marching like a centurion

since not sighted the Holy Door;

was just a few meters close,

shouted "victory" and left San Pietro.

St. Peter, on hearing the military

that continues to exult,

festively decorated in the uniform,

said: "screanzato a little silence.

Or tell me without me wait,

you by what name you call yourself. "

The military without further delay,

said: "I am the General La Marmora

with hat with black feathers,

after having fought bravely

and defending those who suffered outrage,

me as a hero and liberator

heaven longs with honor.

St. Peter's to hear him rave

because he wished to remain calm,

said: "valiant general,

in this place you can not enter,

but I advise you to hasten the journey

where Dante found the Count Ugolino.

La Marmora, hearing those words

outraged honor,

replied: "Hell, lay thyself

if Christ was crucified martyr

is because he too is saved;

and if you deny me this right

I would like to read the sacred writing.

St. Peter, on hearing the saucy

and compared to that sacred place,

calmly replied kindly,

saying: "Dear bersagliere

this is not a military site

where all you had to obey,

so again, I invite you to go

where Charon ferrying you can. "

amazed at those words

decided by the supreme clerical

with the anger that befits the leader

raged, saying the general

"You are doors of this holy site

and so speak because they are unarmed,

yet, if I had not pierced

and anyone I would be so outraged,

my saber or priest taste

your old yearn for martyrdom.

San Pietro, feeling insulted

clenched his fists and said, "on guard plucked rooster."

La Marmora with the fury pounced

but before St Peter grabs,

with anger from a push,

threw him out and shut the door.

Defeated and alone, the brave sharpshooter,

sought a strategy to breed,

but not having a military force,

understood that only one had to resign;

thought St. Peter was then victorious

and I lose the eternal rest.

He left that place inhabited by saints,

defeated and with the anger that the clenched teeth,

thinking now I retire afflicted

but as soon as I return to this place

heaven and put on fire ...

Gaetano Gulisano.