Comic strip by: Massimo Ciotoli

After the letter to Bush I thought I was getting a bit too bigheaded and so I decided to write to Umberto Bossi
That way no one can say anything.
But it’s spring and I feel good, just like when I was at the elementary school with my black overall and blue ribbon. And the hot focaccia that my Mum made and put in my tuck box. I feel lyrical. I turn to Bossi with the verses of a love poem.

“Umberto, do you still remember
that time when you life was based in the Po valley
when the Lega was shining
in you smiling fugitive eyes
and you, joyful and thoughtful, moved up
the limits of the great father of the river Po?
The meadows of Pontida rang out
and the cows all around
to perpetually sing your praises
then to obscene gestures
you were reasonably content
about that vague split that you had in mind.
It was the time of “Clean Hands” and you cried out like that to beat up the berluskaiser, the wild boar and Beelzebub Andreotti.

That the streets and the people
now leaving their sweaty vests
where your early life
the best part was spent.
and then onwards the true people of the Arcore Hostel lent their ears to the music of the great man of the streets.
He was aiming at the great people of the Po
Bosio, Miglio and Calderoli,
The mortal tongue does not say
the serpent that rested in your bosom.
What suave thoughts
hard choruses, Oh my Umberto!

You pray that the grass dries up the money
from the power that has been fought for and won
you betrayed o tender one. And did you not see the flower of your years;
Did you not weep in your heart
the gentle praises or the grey head of hair
now the looks of one who is in love and yet repugnant
nor is Maroni there for the feast days
he was reasoning about love and ampoules from Monviso.

Quite soon, it will even die
the sweet hope: to our years
they denied the fairies
the democracy. Oh my how
how you have passed
dear companion of my new age
my tearful hope!
Is this the world? Are these the delights, the love, the bourgeois, the events
so that we have so many discussions together?
Is this the Mediaset of human people?

At the appearance of Silvio
you, the miserable one, fell down: and with the hand
cold death and an empty tomb
you demonstrated yourself to be from Lugano.”