In questi giorni si parla di eroi morti nell'adempimento del loro dovere, in Afghanistan, con funerali di stato e bandiere tricolori.
Io invece voglio omaggiare uno dei tanti eroi a cui non frega niente a nessuno.
Per farlo riporto uno splendido post in cui uno di questi eroi parla in prima persona, descrivendoci come funzionano le cose per gli eroi come lui...
Ogni tanto bisognerebbe rifletterci.
Source: http://slasch16.splinder.com/post/22745949/mi-chiamo-mario-di-girolamo-avevo-32-anni-sono-morto-sul-lavoro-lascio-due-orfani-e -la-my-coffin-is-not-wrapped-in-the-flag
My name is Mario Di Girolamo, I was 32 years, died on the job. I leave my coffin and two orphans is not wrapped in the flag
My name is Mario Di Girolamo, I was 32 years, died on
work. Left two orphans and my coffin is wrapped in the flag
No minister has spoken of me, no news to me
described as a hero who goes to fight terrorism and
hunt for oil.
No authority, at my funeral, but I
part of those silent heroes, any more than a thousand years,
who lose their lives to work, to support his family, risking
more than one robber.
No demagogy, for me, just friends and relatives
weeping over my death, no minister has been moved to
live for our young heroes
victims of the attacks of evil.
There is no passing Santanchè salary to my widow,
help my children, I do not do news, indeed
disappears first the news of my death by the local editions and
better.
do not have time for some heroes, we will not remember and do not have
heart, not abbiamo nemmeno la retorica di una divisa,
non intervistano le nostre sorelle e le nostre zie, la nostra
bara non arriva in nessun aeroporto avvolta dalla bandiera.
Quella bandiera che commuove tutta Italia, le nonne e le zie,
le casalinghe e le precarie. Gli uomini no, non stà bene che
mostrino le loro emozioni, non avrebbero le palle.
La stessa bandiera che commuove tutta Italia perchè avvolge
le bare dei nostri difensori dal terrorismo è quella che i
leghisti usano per pulirsi il culo.
Sita tranquillo Renzo Bossi, non andrà mai in guerra, non
andrà nemmeno a lavorare, non rischia niente potrà
tranquillamente sparare le sue cazzate
and find the newspapers that published a front page.
The news of my death, no, it will be the inside pages,
no flag, no rhetoric, no memory.
My children do not even have the satisfaction of
be told by friends and relatives that their father was a hero
, who died in Afghanistan, their father was a worker died
anonymous work, like many others which are not
no one remembers.
The priest's sermon at the funeral of one who has heard
repetitive, no emphasis on heroism and little rhetoric, is
a worker died, did not die a hero, has left two orphans
not even jump in air on a bomb and go from glory to
history.
May 20, 2008. A lifetime ago.
PS to write this post I took a chance,
are over a thousand each year, there is no way my fatica.A
I wanted to recall its memory, to remember all the anonymous heroes
which the authorities never think of.
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