Despite the combined efforts of the local chefs and sincere pleas of
the ordinary folk to put an end to this madness, such enthusiasts as
the two Felippes and Gianluigi continued to search for spaghetti,
penne, and pappardelle deposits in the Po riverbed.
What misfortune has struck the poor guys — people worried in the little
local tavernas, looking at dark-eyed girls tanning and sprouting pasta
- look at their faces — sipping their sweet wine, people fretted — what
is that expression? — and a lithe Lombardian in a dark skirt brought the
men ciabattas sprinkled with olive oil and crackers for the wine... —
and these eyes! these eyes! like glass noodles — and a young beauty
reached for a slice of air-dried meat — they no longer have any will —
ventured a little boy tugging at his mummy's skirt — that's true son,
these men are obsessed with what drives you toward pineapples,
papayas and groundcherries, yet propels you into flour and salt — and
an attractively slender girl put on the table more cheese, more nuts.
Marts Pujats translated by Ieva Lesinska