San Ruffino.
A strange ride
in the sweet Tuscany of mine,
of my Vespa the headlights I turn on,
as soon as from Lari I get off.
Continuing for a minute
I find myself in San Ruffino
a village I did not know
but I liked it, yes of course.
The summer evening is great
to eat seems to be made:
you get what you get,
this is not Neverland,
a tavern, that is old,
reminiscent of home.
A sloppy facade,
shabby and machine–gunned,
as you put on the ground your feet,
you’ve come out of war, it seems.
but as soon as you come in
comes to you the desire to eat.
A homely atmosphere
air is unique, here
everything is genuine,
rigorously Tuscan the cuisine.
You are welcomed by a real host,
not by the clerk of the post,
that does it after work,
without will, respect nor.
Here they make you accommodate
no better could you stay:
two girls with on their face
a smile, joy and grace
will deliver the menu
and bring you every kind of food.
Cold cuts to start
that you will eat fast,
Tortelloni with fake ragout
that a painting seems to you,
Maccheroni and rabbit, too
I’d eat as soon as I could,
to complete my lunch, then,
I scoff down even some lamb.
Slices of roasted piglet,
and not bad are also livers,
of my weight I do not care,
even tripe I eat, as well.
Washed down with a good red
I eat everything I can
and I also taste the wines,
Cantuccini and Holy Wine.
To the girls I pay the bill
a little flushed are my cheeks,
then my Vespa I go to reach
my legs are trembling just a bit.
In Livorno I live, although
here I will return for sure,
I pretend to go to Incisa,
but I go in a place of Pisa.
Hardly I put in motion and go
from slumber then I shake off,
about alcohol test I do not think,
my heart in San Ruffino I leave.
Andrea Vanni
