Era sempre appoggiato a un vecchio bastone di legno nodoso. Ripeteva in continuazione che tutti gli uomini hanno il diritto di scegliere la propria strada da percorrere. Lo chiamavano Storto ed era una figura leggendaria nel piccolo paese di montagna.
Il suo viso era solcato da mille rughe,ognuna era un sentiero nella sua vita,una scelta fatta,una sconfitta o anche una semplice e rara happiness.
was as if its existence had been imprinted on the face, leaving him with the thousand indelible grooves.
Another thing I liked to say was that a life without honesty, was not a life worthy of a true man. Although now with a thousand wrinkles and Storto had a life with no short cuts, always with his head high he faced every situation, perhaps because this was so esteemed in the country.
show has always been a degree of rebellion against bourgeois life of his countrymen and preferred to sit on his own, the past had given him more of a disappointment and this was often shy and lonely eyes of others, but despite his often face deep and hardened by the time showed a large dignity of mind.
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