Read and listen to The Rose Without Spring
Questa rosa aveva anche un name: Lucrezia, gliel’aveva dato una bambina che abitava non lontano da lì e che ogni giorno la veniva a trovare.
La rosa Lucrezia era la ventesima daughter di una bella pianta che aveva circa sei anni e godeva di ottima salute, curata com’era dal proprietario della casa, un anziano giardiniere che amava tanto i fiori e li curava con infinito love.
“Quando arriverà la nostra friend Primavera ci riscalderà tutte di nuovo, e allora vedrete che festa!” diceva sempre alle sorelle infreddolite.
The whole garden anxiously awaited the summer: the snow, covering it, had bent it to its rigor and the ice during the long nights had often settled on the numb leaves of the plants.
Quando marzo finalmente arrivò l’alba del ventunesimo giorno spuntò come un miracolo, rosea e trasparente all’orizzonte.
“Here it is, here it is! Spring is here!” cried the roses in chorus in euphoria.
“Here she is, yes, she is! Do you feel this warmth? It's really her!" the daisies echoed him.
Slowly, one by one, all the plants woke up from their torpor: they yawned while stretching the leaves and the stem, while the corollas were preparing to receive the sun.
Passò marzo e anche aprile, le sorelle di Lucrezia avevano già indossato gli abiti primaverili, tanti nuovi petali facevano a gara per spuntare e mostrarsi nella loro fresca beauty.
Lucrezia, on the other hand, hadn't even put one on yet.
"We are in May, it is the month of roses and I still don't have my new petals, why?" she wondered worried.
Passarono altri giorni, venti, per la precisione. Faceva caldo, il giardino era tutto un rigoglio di foglie, fiori, colori e profumi ma Lucrezia aveva ancora l’abito invernale.
"My Lucrezine, don't worry!" he said mum rose to daughter. ”You will see that soon you will put new petals too! It has never happened that Madame Primavera left you like this, without the seasonal dress.”
“Mamma, “replicava Lucrezia,” so che vuoi consolarmi ma io non sono stupida: vedo le mie sorelle tutte bardate a festa per la bella stagione e io sono ancora in abiti invernali. C’è qualcosa che non va. Forse la signora Primavera ce l’ha con me?”
“Ma no, ma no, figlia mia cosa ti salta in testa? Si tratta certamente di un disguido, o magari non sei molto in forma… te lo dicevo sempre, lo scorso inverno: prendi i sali minerali dal terreno se vuoi star bene! Eh, questi sons, they would like to have lots of nice petals and then they don't eat enough."
Lucrezia, however, was not convinced and with each passing day she became more and more sad.
Another month went by, and the poor little rose hadn't put its petals yet.
“Mamma, ho fear che si tratti di un incantesimo,” disse un giorno Lucrezia,” chiedi all’ape messaggera di chiamare la fata dei fiori che sicuramente saprà cosa fare.”
"Sure, I'll spread all my perfume right away, so he'll understand it's urgent."
The messenger bee didn't delay: she immediately flew to the fairy Fioralia.
The latter was a somewhat lazy fairy, she almost always slept in the shade of a beautiful wisteria perched on the wall of a castle, but when the messenger reached her she immediately understood that the matter was urgent: she took her work bag with all the tools to remove the spells, then she shrunk like a gnat and climbed on Magdalene's back who carried her in a flash to Lucrezia's rose garden.
He found the rose in a state of deep prostration.
“Rosellina mia, courage: c’è qui fata Fioralia che risolve tutti i guai” disse.
"Yes, please!" Lucrezia exclaimed. I haven't put the petals on yet, I'm afraid I'm the victim of a spell. Help me!"
Fairy Fioralia took her spell-finding lens and examined the rose closely with it.
“Hum, I don't think there are any spells here. No, the reason is another."
“And which, which?” Lucretia asked.
“Madama Primavera's temper is at stake here, I feel it. You know how it's done, don't you? A nothing is enough for it to overshadow. You must have offended her in some way, think about it.”
“IOOO? And when? As? It's impossible, I've always been nice to her."
“Riflettici su, figliola, perché io non vedo altro motivo. E ora, se non ti dispiace, torno al mio pisolino: ho tanto sonno!”
Lucrezia was desperate: how could she have made that crazy girl from Primavera so angry? She just didn't know.
“Sentito, mamma? Te l’avevo detto: madama Primavera ce l’ha con me. E ora che si fa?”
“Non c’è altro da fare: bisogna parlare con madama Primavera. Ci penso io. Dico alla farfalla Ginevra di portarla qui, è sua amica e di sicuro madama non farà storie se sarà lei a chiederle di venire qui.”
In fact, the Geneva butterfly was a close friend of Madame Primavera, and often went to her house in the afternoon to have a chat over a cup of good nectar.
Spring lived in a very impervious place that only those with wings could reach.
That day, however, the lady was not at home, she had gone to find the newborn flowers and did not know what time she would be back, as the note attached to the door said.
Guinevere, then, to deceive the wait, went around flying here and there in the nearby fields, and we almost missed getting lost, that sventatella!
When Madame Primavera finally returned, her dress was covered in pollen.
“Oh, who shows up! My dear friend… what good zephyr brings you?” asked Spring.
“Sono qui perché c’è un’emergenza, “ rispose Ginevra,” dovresti andare a trovare la mamma della rosa Lucrezia. E’ in pena per la figlia. Ti prego, vai subito!”
“I'm tired and it's late, but since you care so much…that's fine, but first let me take the pollen off my dress.”
Arrivarono nel giardino che era quasi il sunset.
“Signora, “ esordì la mother di Lucrezia,” l’ho fatta chiamare perché, come puo’ vedere, tutte le rose mie figlie sono fiorite e belle, solo Lucrezia non ha ancora i suoi petali. Fata Fioralia ci ha detto che non si tratta di un incantesimo e che questo succede perché lei è arrabbiata con la mia bambina. “
”That's right. Lucrezia has committed a grave crime" replied Primavera in an austere tone.
"Guilt? My baby? And which?"
“Guilt, guilt…” whispered the roses.
" Guilt. On March 21st of last year, during my party, she offended me: while all the flowers were singing and rejoicing for my arrival, I caught Lucrezia sleeping. Sleep, you understand? During my party!”
“Oh, è per questo! La perdoni, signora, è così young! Di sicuro non l’ha fatto apposta.”
“He offended me, he just offended me. “
"And it can't be remedied?"
“Hum, there's a way…if Lucrezia agrees. She should get severed."
"Cut, cut..." cried the roses, frightened.
“Yes, cut but there's nothing to worry about, then it could be reborn more beautiful and luxuriant than ever and with many petals. Cutting to be donated to a little girl who is very ill right now."
“What does a little girl do with a rose that hasn't bloomed?”
“This is my business. Lucrezia has only to say if she accepts. ”
"And who's going to tell the human we care about cutting it right now?"
“My fairies will take care of blowing this idea into his ear. Lucrezia, do you accept?”
Lucrezia nodded yes, bending the trunk.
The following morning, the old gardener woke up with a great desire to prune that very rose that hadn't bloomed, he took a nice pair of shears and went straight to get Lucrezia.
Passava di lì la mamma della bambina ammalata.
“Che bel giardino! Ma quella povera rosa? Se la butta via la prendo io, per la mia bambina: ama tanto i fiori, sa? Ora sta bad, le farà piacere averla sul comodino, anche se non ha i petali.”
As soon as the Lucrezia rose was placed on the little girl's bedside table, to everyone's amazement, it bloomed and the little girl recovered completely after two days.
Meanwhile, even the severed stem was growing visibly, after a few days a new Lucrezia, beautiful and full of petals, appeared more radiant than ever in the garden.
"It's in bloom, it's in bloom!" the roses sang in chorus.” Lucrezia also now has her spring.”