Looking into Marchisio
Who knows if it’s all over. Maybe you yourself ignore if the door is still opened to go back to listen, or close to open another age.
The grief is already growing, a safe but at the same time emotional memory. The melancholy of Prince Claudio, who feels pain for beauty in the end; a feeling which brings us to our childhood, still that destroys the differences of the intellect. In these moments, the paradox: the wise man is foolish, he doesn’t know what to do and say.
You’re quiet, you get emotional again and you’re wistfully happy. You are experiencing that wide moment of introspection that, regardless of how much time it lasts, it’s a lifetime experience. The good times are sad thoughts and remembrance is a traitor: the times lived as a child, when the time went fast and deceived through space and travel; you realize that delicious deception, in silence and the ancient images appear even more vivid.
Almost all dreams come true, very few just remained so. You look inside: born in this city, left, took it back in a second, vigorously you provided the Lady a destiny. You gave her a new and glorious pace. Now you’re free, Prince, you have the sweet power to forget. We are confident that you will not make noise in interrogate the conscience.
You see yourself at the mirror, you see your flaws, but without criticizing
You seem to be an expert, but you don’t feel old
You seem to be saturated with events and memories, but your hands are not full
For a while, your piece of mind exceeds 360°; so you thought you knew what it would be like painting with (hap)pens, scientifically calculating the nostalgic plug. Instead, a sudden pain never suffered invades you. You’re losing something immeasurable but you are brave, because the love you feel is so strong to delight you in the end.
The melancholy, day by day, raises its venom. Induced to abandon the carousel where you were almost hoping mom and dad could leave you; where you listened, studied, played, exulted, taken and given advice. So close to being fulfilled, but so far to be comforted.
The Lady cannot ask you more than this. You gave it all without never saying “you owe me”; training at ten in the morning feeling happy already one hour before, and ask your kids what it means if you don’t remember. Do your best not to forget the truth that you’ve written.
You’ll be the first to embrace the Prince who has known, lived and loved the Lady like very few did. You’ll laugh crying with her many more times; you’ll be a star at the stadium, one of the leaders of tomorrow.
In that moment the time of judgement for the soccer player will be over.
Everything will be more smoothly, yet less romantic.
Translation by Giacomo Scutiero (Original article here)