(rein)carnation

Thirty one years ago a very young girl couldn't go to school because a revolution was taking place.
The young girl was called Ana and was my mum.
The revolution was of the Carnations and allowed me to be the free person I am.
On the 25th of April of 1974, young and inexperienced soldiers took the comand of the Country with red carnations on the top of their guns.
The colonial war had already given us too much blood. No one wanted a single drop more.
On the other hand, the dictatorship had driven itself to her own end.
And these boys, who knew little about politics or revolutions just gave it a hand.
And a flower, to honour its death.
Lisbon and the rest of Portugal (expect for that young teenager who couldn't go to school) received with joy the pacific revolution that lead Portugal to a more inteligent and proficuous route.
Here, in Italy, I celebrated this day is a very happy way, together with the 60th anniversary of the popular revolution against the nazi occupation in Italy.
And the sun came out. In a splendid way. Rome can still be a lovely place to be.
Even to celebrate revolutions.