Once upon a time there was a wise caterpillar

That is, when the caterpillars were really caterpillars.

A Fable

dedicated with affectionate nostalgia and

fraternal gratitude to [W. Master] Alessandro,

now more than ever.

Once upon a time there was a caterpillar, it was a wise caterpillar but it did not have the long
beard of the wise caterpillars, nor did it go up to the top of the mushrooms to pontificate, 1) much
less went it running around among the younger little caterpillars saying "this is not right, that is
wrong," well, even if he wanted to do so, but he certainly didn't want to, he couldn't have. Oh yes,
it was a wise caterpillar that had lost half of its legs 2) by surviving the attack of a black and filthy
evil spider which, however, had snatched half of its legs. The wise caterpillar, battered but
indomitable, had not broken down much and, remedied it, is not known how, with a conspicuous
series of crutches, hopping here and there as if nothing had happened, arousing the envy of the
younger little caterpillars who still were confused 3) with their twenty-eight paws, tripping and
tumbling with each step. Going back to the wise caterpillar, this misadventure that he knew was
temporary, waiting to become a wonderful butterfly, 4) did not prevent him from being wise.
Indeed, it seemed as if the more legs it had lost and the more wisdom it had acquired, to the great
bewilderment of all the younger little caterpillars, who would have liked to play around merrily as
little caterpillars without much wisdom. It was enough for him to approach, jumping happily on his
fourteen legs alternating with his fourteen crutches, that the younger little caterpillars all
quietened down and gathered round, knowing that it was time to listen and be quiet. 5)

The wise caterpillar, then, cleared his throat with a cavernous sound, which made all the dorsal
hairs of the younger little caterpillars tremble, and … he kept silent.

Then the little caterpillars realized that the caterpillars, their elder brothers, 6) emerged from the
leaves around them and silently they too put themselves in a circle with their beautiful straight
backs and well-angled legs, with the air of who knows how to do it. A few little caterpillars that
had somewhat lost their composure, with a few legs on this side and a few legs on the other side,
with their ruffled and arched backs, immediately recomposed themselves trying to imitate the
older brothers and to put all the twenty-eight legs in good order 3) even if it was not always easy
to succeed in lining up all twenty-eight of them.
Everyone now looked with their yellow eyes at the wise caterpillar that began to … keep quiet.
There was a slight rustling sound and the older caterpillars began to descend from the highest
leaves, slow and majestic, confident in their advance with all the legs that moved in perfect
synchrony and the sound of all those legs that perfectly moved seemed the dull hum of the spring
that is born. Even the older caterpillars with their long beards, some silver and some gold, 7) sat
down with casual composure in the outermost circle, almost like wanting to protect everyone.

The wise caterpillar gave a strong blow with his first foot 8) and in a firm and sonorous voice said:
"silence everyone!" even if no one had uttered a word until that moment.

"Let's begin!" said the wise caterpillar and the question "To do what?" appeared in the yellow eyes
of all the younger caterpillars. The wise caterpillar added, "Does anyone want to propose a
theme?" One of the old caterpillars who had a silver beard raised five of his legs to ask for the
word which was immediately granted him "Today we could talk about the difference between the
leaf to be nibbled at and the "nibbled" leaf. Some of the younger caterpillars staggered on at least
ten legs but with an elegant movement of the back managed to recompose themselves.

It was the tenth or hundredth time, 9) they no longer remembered, that they heard the matter of
the leaf to be nibbled at and the nibbled one. Their back hair began to drop pitilessly, but a swift
circular glance of the wise caterpillar straightened the younger caterpillars' back hairs in a pathetic
attempt of composed interest. One of the older caterpillars, who was however less old, and could
be seen from his silver beard that was just beginning to come out, respectfully raised fifteen legs,
risking to tumble upon himself, and said: "Today we could talk about the mystical sense of the
stem of the nibbled leaf." A sepulchral silence fell upon all, and ten younger caterpillars fell to the
ground, while an older caterpillar was seized with convulsions and began to change color every ten
seconds. The whack on the head by another old caterpillar saved him from a technicolor hysterical
attack. The wise caterpillar coughed and made himself regain his composure by striking the floor
with at least ten crutches. The order was quickly restored. The wise caterpillar with its stentorian
and cavernous voice said: "It seems to me that for today the discussion has been ample and
fruitful. So I close the discussion and start the ritual banquet!" 10) He had not yet finished the
sentence, that with a convulsive jerk of his torso and a skillful crossing of legs and crutches, he
turned to grasp between the frantic jaws the first available leaf. The younger caterpillars looked at
each other beset by fear, as they were trampled by the much more experienced old caterpillars
who jumped on the softer leaves followed by the older caterpillars who took possession of the
newer [half-grown] leaves. While the wise caterpillar with jaws full of juicy pulp libated with a
glass of nectar and simultaneously burped and praised like a drunken moth to the square of the
heart, all the caterpillars tried to participate in the banquet. Soon the racket assumed the
dimensions of an orgiastic meal worthy of the worst caterpillar traditions.
In vain did the caterpillar with mystical obsessions attempted to bring some order to the situation
by asking the older caterpillars for comfort in organizing a meal suited to the importance of the
meeting. The elderly caterpillars, ignoring him, mercilessly rolled over branches and twigs
completely drunk with sap and nectar, singing licentious jokes appropriate to dung-handlers and
vulgarly grinning and trivially commenting on the lewd jokes on mantises and black widows. The
younger caterpillars, a little intimidated by these shameless behaviors, and a little encouraged by
the elderly, indulged in burps and farts. The old caterpillars, noticing the pathetic attempts of the
younger caterpillars to set a tone for themselves, launched themselves into an even more
thunderous and arrogant race of unmentionable noises emitted by unmentionable cavities. 11)

The festival, if it can be called so, lasted a long time. At one point, one of the older caterpillars got
up, or rather tried to get up on the hind eight legs and, in a pompous tone, proposed a toast,
immediately followed by a howl of burps and cackles from his elderly colleagues who proposed
not a toast but a battery [array] of toasts. Between much discussion, on whom to drink and in
what sequence and with what rituals, the younger caterpillars grabbed the remnants of leaves,
stems and leftover flowers. They soon paid for it, a battery of slaps immediately put them back in
their place. In the meantime, the elder caterpillars, with a casual and feignedly indifferent air, had
taken possession of the leftovers abandoned by the younger caterpillars and devoured them in a
composed silence.

The oldest caterpillar with golden barbels rose on its shaky twelve legs and proposed a toast to the
intangible Supreme Chief of the caterpillar Universe. Silence fell like a dead wasp over the
congregation. Here there was no joking. Everyone, from the last yonger caterpillar newly admitted
to the old caterpillar, put themselves together. 12) The old caterpillar smoothed his golden beard,
adjusted his regulatory gaberdine by giving it its most beautiful purple color and raised the flower
full of nectar to the sky shouting TO LIGHT! All the caterpillars of every order raised their flowers
shouting with one voice TO LIGHT! 13)

"Stop!!" cried out the wise caterpillar, throwing twelve crutches in the face of the nearest
caterpillars, who stepped aside causing the crutches to slam on the face of the less adroit younger
caterpillars.

"Stop!" he repeated. "The battery was not commanded!" The old caterpillar with golden barbels
wavered admitting, among the fumes of the nectar, his forgetfulness and attributing it to his old
age instead of the liters of nectar that he had indecently ingested. The pitying gaze of all the
caterpillars of every order and degree hovered like a moth dazed by the camphor over the
congregation. Someone whistled to give himself an attitude, immediately silenced by the
neighbors. The wise caterpillar with elegant gesture recomposed the four hairs on his head and in
a calm tone asked the old caterpillar with golden barbels to lead the toast battery 14) which was
immediately prepared. It began with a series of rambling legs 15) on the right and left, above and
below, in front and behind, so much so that the younger caterpillars tumbled from the twigs and
the caterpillar with mystical desires had all twisted around its own legs. Recomposed the team, it
was started again, managing to get to the fateful battery of strokes of the first seven right legs
against the second left legs, followed by a second battery of strokes between the first thirteen
central right legs against the first thirteen left legs and then from a final salvo of the second
thirteen right legs against the thirteen central left legs. The silence that should have followed the
salvo of strokes, on the other hand, was broken by the inconsiderate and uncoordinated strokes of
does unknow how many and which legs of the caterpillar with mystical obsessions.

Silence fell on the caterpillar group, broken only by the metaphysical noise of the last left foot of
the mystical caterpillar that slammed with the same last left foot.

The silence continued cruelly accusatory for a few more moments, when it was interrupted by the
loud snoring of the golden-bearded old caterpillar. His purple gaberdine had taken on the color of
the night sky and shone only a silver medal that he wore on his chest like the August moon.

The old caterpillars silently turned to go to the tallest leaves. The old golden-barbed caterpillar
started quickly, or at least so he believed he did, while skidding from a twig to a branch he shouted
joyfully that he had to go home immediately because he had to bring his old beloved flea to pee.

Meanwhile, some high-ranking caterpillar tried to help the wise caterpillar which, continuing to
cackle drunk like a tarantula and slamming paws and crutches on all those who came within range,
was carried by weight towards his leaf where his sweetheart caterpillar awaited him impatiently
and with a look in golden eyes, unclear if reproaching or of loving concern, while rhythmically
tapping the third right front foot together with the first left front foot, thus showing all her
disappointment for the state of Her wise caterpillar.

The wise caterpillar, pretending nothing had happened, mumbled to his sweetheart caterpillar
that he came from a meeting of philosopher caterpillars and that had made a great impression
with a speech on … he no longer remembered what. The high-ranking caterpillar quietly melted
away, so as not to witness an unconventional marital show, reaching the younger caterpillars who
in the meantime had put everything in order by devouring as with eight jaws all the leftovers food.

Everyone went to sleep, patting each other on the back and congratulating each other on the
perfectly successful evening and vowing to meet again and again to toast in the way just toasted.

In the silence that had fallen a slight rustle was heard and the barely wise caterpillar, the one with
the mystical obsessions, came out from under a leaf and staggered towards its branch, muttering,
between a nectaric sob and the other, to itself: "What a wonderful metaphysical feast, it really felt
like being in a tavern of dung-handlers of yore! Who would have thought that I would have had so
much fun! I really didn't think the wise old caterpillar knew how to conclude in this way … so truly
butterfly-like, in an apotheosis of fraternal caterpillary, a ritual banquet. LONG LIVE THE RITUAL
BANQUETS, if they are all like that!"

A long time after that ritual banquet so full of fraternal caterpillary, one morning, as soon as the
sun appeared between the branches of the tree, the barely-wise caterpillar, 16) which had
remained so despite the elapsed time, came out yawning from under its leaf where it always holed
up to rest. He raised his little red eyes to the sky and … he stood enchanted. His little eyes filled
with tears and he, with an abrupt gesture of three legs, cleaned his eyes to see better. Yes, it was
true … a magnificent butterfly with wings of an iridescent blue with golden flashes flew slow and
majestic over the branch where the tribe of the barely-wise caterpillar lived. He immediately
recognized in the extraordinary butterfly that dazzling smile that had greeted him many times. The
butterfly, with a little flapping of wings, approached the barely-wise caterpillar, stopped just that
instant to launch the last greeting to the enchanted caterpillar. Then the blue and gold butterfly
flew away with fast wing beats as if in a hurry to reach something that only she knew of. 17)

To the barely-wise caterpillar seemed to hear, in the slight whir of those wings, something. The
eyes of the barely-wise caterpillar filled with tears again, but now the tears of pain mingled with
those of happiness.

Yes, he had heard right, it was the sonorous greeting that every time the wise old caterpillar had
given him:

"Ciao Francesco!"