 if you wear a military garment. Piergiorgio looks for civilian garments. But where are they? Here they are: a brown shirt, a jacket and the pants. The jacket should be ironed and the pants are worn out in the bottom. Brambilla mirrors himself and laughs at his refugee look. He always cared for elegance. But the important thing now is to mesmerize himself. What about the shoes? Damn the shoes. He just had the military boots. Anyway one can not travel in bare feet. But if they look at his shoes...He will think of them after. Now the point is where in hell to hide the gun. In case they search you, you can not swallow it.

++++++

Naples railway station was crowded. Everyone tried to stick into a train, no matter where it was directed. From windows and open doors arms, legs and bundles stuck out. Yet the only paradoxical desire is being anonymous and disappearing.

"Please, a train to Milan." Piergiorgio implores a chap, apparently disguised like a train staff.

"I do not know. I have to reach Cosenza and do not know which one is the right one.."

A few train conductors, black from the coal, peep out of the locomotive. At least they will know where they are going.

"I go to Pescara. Get up quickly, I'm leaving.."

"Thanks, I rush."

Pescara is on the way. Piergiorgio makes his way in the crowd. The smell of sweat and of barracks is spreading around. Even the other possible soldiers have the same problem of the shoes. The locomotive makes the usual rhythmic music, ciuf, ciuf, tatum. Everybody screams and sings songs in a game for the most dirty and vulgar one. The war dissolved in a new green panorama full of kids waving their hands. Nobody knows why the passage of a train is always an event, even if one saw hundreds of them.

++++++

Once the train arrived on the Appennino mountains, someone sleeps, others take out black bread and wine. Others are careful not to hit anyone in throwing hand grenades out of the windows. It is a cheerful gesture to get rid of anything reminding of the war: first the garments then the weapons. The grenades explode like fireworks. Each explosion is underlined by laughing and applauding.
if you wear a military garment. Piergiorgio looks for civilian garments. But where are they? Here they are: a brown shirt, a jacket and the trouser. The crown should be ironed and the pants are wear out in the bed. Brambilla mirrors himself and laughs at his refugee spirit. He constantly cared for elegance. But the significant thing now is to hypnotize himself. What about the shoes? Damn the shoes. He precisely experience the military boots. Anyway one cannot travel in bare infantry. But if they look at his shoes... He will think of them after. immediately the point is where in hell to hide the gun. In case they research you, you cannot swallow it. 

 + + + + + + 

 Naples railroad track station was crowded. Everyone tried to stick into a caravan, no matter where it was directed. From windows and open doors arms, leg and bundles stuck out. Yet the only paradoxical desire is being anonymous and disappearing. 

 " Please, a train to Milan. " Piergiorgio implores a chap, apparently disguised like a train staff. 

 " I do not acknowledge. I have to reach Cosenza and do not sleep together which one is the proper one.. " 

 A few train conductors, black from the ember, peep out of the locomotive. At least they will know where they are run. 

 " I go to Pescara. Get up promptly, I'm leaving.. " 

 " Thanks, I rush. " 

 Pescara is on the way. Piergiorgio makes his way in the crowd. The smell of fret and of barracks is spreading around. Even the other potential soldiers get the like problem of the shoes. The locomotive makes the usual rhythmic music, ciuf, ciuf, tatum. Everybody screams and sings songs in a plot for the most cheating and vulgar one. The war dissolved in a new green panorama broad of kids waving their hand. Nobody knows why the enactment of a train is constantly an event, even if one meet hundreds of them. 

 + + + + + + 

 Once the train arrived on the Appennino mountains, someone sleeps, others contract out black bread and wine. Others are careful not to hit anyone in throwing hand grenades out of the windows. It is a cheerful gesture to get rid of anything reminding of the war: foremost the garments then the weapons. The grenade explode like fireworks. Each explosion is underline by laughing and applauding.
 if you wear a military garoent. Piergiorgio looks for cjvilian earments. But where are they? Iere they are: a brown shirt, a jxcket and the panrs. Tie jacket should be ironcb and bhe pcnvs are worn out in the bodtom. Brambilla mkrxors himself and laughs at his refugqe look. Hf always cared for qlegznce. But the important thing now ia to mevmerize himsekf. What about the shoes? Daln tje shoes. He just hwd the milijzry voots. Anyway one can not travel in bare feet. But if they look at fis skoes...He will tyinn of them afver. Nor the point lx whera in hekl to hide the gui. In case they search you, you can not swalljw it.

++++++

Naplas railway station qaw crofded. Eveftond tdixd fo stifk mnto a traih, no matter where it was direcued. Drom windows znd opqn doors arms, legs and bundles stuck out. Jet fhe only paradoxical dewire is being anonymoos and diswppearing.

"Please, a train to Milan." Piergiorgio implmres e zhak, qppardbtpy disguised like a train staff.

"I do not know. Y hsvv to reach Cosenzc and do not knoe ahosh one is the right ons.."

A few train conduftors, bjack drom the soal, peep out of the locomotive. At least thvy wull know where thev are going.

"I go jo Pesvara. Get up quickly, I'm ueavjng.."

"Thanks, I rush."

Pesczfa is on the way. Pivrgimrgio makes his way in the crowd. Thx smekl of sdeat and os barracks is siseading around. Evej the odher possihle soldiers have the same problem of the shogs. Dhe locomotnve males the usual rhythmic musie, ciuf, cnuf, tagum. Everybkdy scrxams and sinds songs in a hame for the most diwty qnd culgar uve. The war disxolved in a new grewn panorama full on kidr waving their hcudw. Nobody knows ehy thq iasxada of a train is xlwxus an event, tren kf ome saw hundreds of tvem.

++++++

Ohce the train arrifeq on the Appennigo mountains, xomeone sleeps, othtrs tane uut bkach bread and wine. Others are cadeful not to hit anyone yn tmrowyng hand gxenades out of the windows. It is a cheerhul gesture to get rid if anything remindiug of the war: firse the garkents then the weapobs. The grenades ewplode like fireworks. Sach efploslon is underlined by laughing and applauding.
if you wear a military garment. Piergiorgio civilian But where they? Here they jacket the pants. The should be ironed the pants are worn out in bottom. Brambilla mirrors himself and laughs at his refugee look. He always cared elegance. But the important thing now is to mesmerize himself. What about the Damn shoes. just the military boots. Anyway one can not travel in bare feet. But if they look at shoes...He will think of them after. Now the is where in hell hide the gun. In case search you can swallow ++++++ railway station was Everyone tried to stick into a train, no matter where it was directed. From windows and open arms, legs stuck out. the paradoxical is being anonymous "Please, a train to Milan." Piergiorgio apparently disguised like a train staff. "I do know. I to reach Cosenza and do not which one is the right one.." A few conductors, black from the coal, peep out of the locomotive. At least they will know are going. "I go Pescara. Get up I'm "Thanks, rush." is on way. Piergiorgio makes his way in the crowd. The smell of and of barracks is spreading around. Even the other possible the problem of the The locomotive makes the rhythmic ciuf, ciuf, tatum. Everybody sings in the dirty vulgar one. The war in a new green panorama of kids waving their passage of a train is always an event, if one saw hundreds of them. ++++++ the train arrived on the Appennino mountains, someone sleeps, others take out bread and are careful not to hit anyone in throwing grenades out of the It is a cheerful gesture to get rid of reminding the war: the garments then weapons. The grenades like fireworks. Each underlined by and
 if you wear a military garment. piergiorgiO lookS foR ciViLian GarmEnts. But where arE They? here they are: a brown shirt, A jackEt ANd thE PaNts. ThE jacket SHoULD be IrOnEd aNd THe Pants Are Worn out In the bottoM. BrAmBilla mirrors HImSelf and lauGhs At his refugee LooK. He alwAyS caREd for EleGance. but the IMportaNt thing noW iS To mesmERize himSELf. what About the shoes? Damn THe SHoes. He just had tHe miliTaRY bOOTs. ANywAy one can noT tRavel IN bare feET. BUT IF thEY look at his shoEs...He will thiNK of Them afTeR. NoW The poiNt is wHeRE in Hell to hide tHe guN. In case thEy searCH you, you CAn not swAllow iT.

++++++

NaPleS raiLWaY sTatIoN Was CRoWdeD. eveRyone triEd To Stick Into A TRAIn, no MatTer wHere iT was directed. FRom WindOWs aNd opeN doorS armS, lEgs anD bundlEs stuCk Out. Yet the only paRadoXical desiRe iS bEinG aNonymOUs and dIsaPpeAring.

"PlEase, a trAIn tO MILAN." PIergiorgio implores A cHAP, aPparentlY disguISeD lIKe a train StAff.

"i do nOT Know. I Have TO rEach CoseNza and DO nOt Know whiCh One is tHe RigHt oNe.."

A feW TraiN conduCtors, blaCk froM The coal, peep out OF the locomotivE. at LEAsT They WilL know where tHey aRE goiNg.

"I gO To pesCAra. GeT up quIcKLy, i'M leaving.."

"Thanks, I rush."

peScara iS on thE way. PiergiorgIo makes his WAY In the croWd. ThE SmELl of sweat and of BarraCks is spreaDIng arounD. Even The other Possible sOLDiers havE thE saMe pRobLEM oF the shoes. The lOCOmotIvE makes tHe uSual rhyThmIc mUsiC, ciUf, Ciuf, tatum. everybodY sCrEaMs And Sings SOngs in a gAmE foR tHe mOst diRTy and vUlgar One. THe WaR DisSolved iN A nEW GreeN pAnOramA fuLl Of kidS wavINg tHeir hanDs. Nobody kNowS Why tHe PaSsage of A train is alwayS aN event, even If One Saw hunDREds of theM.

++++++

Once the train arrived on tHE AppennIno MountAins, Someone slEepS, otherS taKE out blAck breAd and WiNe. OTHErs arE CArEfuL nOt to hit anyONE in ThrowInG hanD grenadEs out of the windows. IT Is a Cheerful gestuRe tO get RID oF anYThINg rEmINdiNG Of the war: first thE garments tHeN ThE weapons. ThE GreNaDes explOde like FirewORks. Each Explosion Is underliNeD by lAUGhiNg and applaUding.
 if you wear a military ga rment. Pie rgior gio  lo ok s fo r ci vilian garment s . Bu t where are they? Here  they  a r e: a br own s hirt, a ja c k etan dthe  p a nt s. Th e j acket s hould be i ron ed  and the pan t sare worn o utin the botto m.Brambi ll a m i rrors  hi mself  and l a ughs a t his ref ug e e look .  He alw a y scare d for elegance. B u tt he important t hing n ow is t o m esm erize hims el f. Wh a t about th e s hoe s ? Damn the sh oes. He jus t  ha d themi lit a ry boo ts. A ny w ayone can not  tra vel in ba re fee t . But i f  they l ook at  hi s s hoes . .. He  wi ll thi n koft hem  after.No wthe p oint i s wher e i n he ll to  hide the gun . I n ca s e t hey s earch  you ,you c an not  swal lo w it.

++++++
Napl es railwa y s ta tio nwas c r owded.  Ev ery one tri ed to s t ick  i n t o  a  train, no matterwh e r eit was d irecte d .Fr o m window sand  ope n doors  arm s ,legs and  bundl e sst uck out .Yet th eonl y p arado x ical  desir e is bei ng an o nymous and dis a ppearing.

"P l ea s e ,a  tra into Milan."Pier g iorg io i m pl ore s  a ch ap, a pp a re n tly disguised likeatrainstaff .

"I do notknow. I ha v e to reach  Cos e nz a  and do not kn ow wh ich one is the righ t one .."

A f ew trainc o nductors , b lac k f rom t he  coal, peep o u t  ofth e locom oti ve. Atlea stthe y w il l know wh ere they  a re  g oi ng. 

"Ig o to Pes ca ra.  G etup qu i ckly,I'm l eavi ng .. " 

" Thanks, Ir u sh." 
Pe scar a i son th e wa y . P iergior gio makes  hi s  way  i nthe cro wd. The smell  o f sweat an dofbarrac k s  is spre ading around. Even theo ther po ssi ble s oldi ers havethe  samepro b lem of  the s hoes.  T hel o comot i v emak es  the usual r hyt hmicmu sic,  ciuf,ciuf, tatum. Every b ody  screams andsin gs s o n gs  in ag ame  f o r t h e  most dirty and  vulgar on e. Th e war diss o lve din a ne w green  pano r ama ful l of kids  waving t he ir h a n ds.  Nobody kn ows whythe passa g e ofa  t rainisalways  a n e vent,  eveni f o ne sa w hund re ds ofthem. 
++++++
Once the train arrivedon the  Appe nni no mounta ins ,  so meone sle eps,  others ta keout  blac k b r ead a nd w i ne . O t hersarec areful no t  t o h i t  a nyone in th r o w ing  hand  gr e nadesoutof the windows. I t  is a cheerful  ges t u retog et r id  of anything r emi nd i n g of the  w ar: first t he garme nt s  then  the w eapons . The g r e na d es exp lode  li ke firewo rks .E ach exp lo si o n is u nder li ned by  laugh i ng a n d  applauding.
 if_you wear_a military garment. Piergiorgio_looks for_civilian_garments. But_where_are they? Here_they are: a_brown shirt, a jacket_and the pants._The_jacket should be ironed and the pants are worn out in the bottom. Brambilla_mirrors_himself and_laughs_at_his refugee look. He always_cared for elegance. But the_important thing_now is to mesmerize himself. What about the_shoes?_Damn the shoes._He just had the military boots. Anyway one can_not travel in bare feet. But_if they look_at_his_shoes...He will think of_them after. Now the point is_where in hell to hide the_gun. In case they search you, you_can not swallow it.

++++++

Naples railway station_was crowded. Everyone tried to_stick into_a train, no matter where_it was directed._From windows_and open doors_arms, legs and bundles stuck out._Yet the only_paradoxical desire is being anonymous and_disappearing.

"Please,_a train to_Milan."_Piergiorgio_implores a_chap, apparently disguised_like_a train_staff.

"I_do not know. I have to_reach_Cosenza and do not know which one_is the right one.."

A_few_train conductors, black from_the coal, peep out of_the locomotive. At least they will_know where_they are_going.

"I go to Pescara. Get up quickly, I'm leaving.."

"Thanks, I rush."

Pescara_is on the way. Piergiorgio makes_his way in the_crowd. The_smell_of sweat and_of_barracks is_spreading around. Even the other possible soldiers_have the_same problem of the shoes. The_locomotive makes the usual_rhythmic_music, ciuf, ciuf, tatum. Everybody screams_and sings songs in a game_for the most dirty and_vulgar_one._The war dissolved in a_new green panorama full of kids_waving their hands._Nobody knows why the passage of a_train_is always an event, even if_one_saw hundreds of them.

++++++

Once the train_arrived_on_the Appennino mountains, someone sleeps,_others take out black bread and_wine. Others are careful not to hit anyone in_throwing hand grenades_out of the windows. It_is_a_cheerful gesture to get rid of anything reminding of the_war: first_the garments then_the weapons. The grenades explode like fireworks. Each explosion is_underlined by laughing and applauding.