***
Among these gentlewomen,
addicted to late hours,
grappa’s and poetry,
sometimes neurotic,
more often self-confident,
wearing men’s smoking’s or lovely Scottish kilts,
enjoying the routine of being themselves
in public,
with the air of unparalleled
determination and security,
among these gentlewomen
no-one dares
to pretend,
some men, however, feel endangered
daring to say:
“You haven’t met the right prince.
I could turn you…’”
These gentlewomen
are assertive without aggression,
protective without paternalism.
They are women.
Being feminine is not the same
as being a woman.
Being a woman is not the same
as being feminine.
They are gentle and they are women,
“incorrectly unfeminine”,
distinctive and seductive,
always on their own.
These gentlewomen
are not withdrawing
from social struggles,
still refugees from this men’s world
continue ropewalking
over the whispers behind their backs,
happy for at least
of not being the objects of men’s rivalry,
listening to their insults,
some of which are even funny:
‘Too pretty to be an L-girl’, for instance.
These gentlewomen
recognize the cruelty of life
and yet remain its poets:
enjoying late hours,
grappa’s and poetry,
sometimes neurotic,
more often self-confident,
but always happy with who they are.
