The Shepherd from Caltanissetta

This is what they tell, this is what they recount in our lands.

In the village of Caltanissetta, there lived a young shepherd named Martino. He always wore a patched jacket made of coarse cloth, torn shoes, an old felt hat, and over his shoulder, he carried a canvas bag. "Oh," you might say, "why should we listen to such a poor fellow? We've seen plenty of them without your tales, and coins don't often jingle in our own pockets either." That may be so, but Martino was as beautiful as the bright sun in the blue sky. Maybe even more beautiful. Because looking at the sun hurts your eyes, but you can look at Martino as much as you want until you get tired of it. It should also be added that Martino was the best at playing the shepherd's flute and had the clearest singing voice.

Martino worked as a shepherd in one village and then another. And everywhere, girls fell in love with him, boys envied him, and old men smiled kindly at him. So Martino became proud.

One day, he was walking from one village to another and sat down to rest on a large stone in the middle of a clearing. Lost in thought, he took out his flute from his bag and began to play a tune.

The forest fairy heard this tune and wanted to see who played so beautifully. From a daisy to a clover, from a clover to a bellflower, from a bellflower to a carnation—after all, fairies flutter like butterflies—she made her way to the clearing.

"Oh, how lucky you are!" exclaimed the fairy when she saw Martino. "Anyone who hears you will be enchanted, anyone who looks at you will be captivated."

"What are you talking about! I am the most unfortunate person in the world! For people to see me, I have to wander like a homeless dog from village to village. But I am worthy of people flocking to marvel at me. With such beauty, I should be a statue. Then I would be happy!"

"Well, then I will make you happy. It's not difficult for me at all."

With that, the fairy touched Martino with her magic wand. In that instant, the young man turned into a beautiful golden statue. His felt hat became gold, his patched jacket, and even his alder flute. Even the stone he was sitting on turned to gold.

The fairy clapped her tiny hands, laughed joyfully, and ran off—from the carnation to the bellflower, from the bellflower to the clover, from the clover to the daisy, and then disappeared into the depths of the forest.

And the golden shepherd remained sitting on the golden stone in the middle of the clearing.

Martino's wish had come true. People from nearby and distant villages came to admire him. In the evenings, young men and women gathered in the clearing. Sometimes they sang, sometimes one of the young men would play the violin, and the others would dance.

But Martino remained motionless. Oh, how he wanted to sing and dance with everyone! He tried to bring the flute to his lips, but his golden hand wouldn't obey. He tried to sing, but no sound came from his golden throat. He wanted to dance with a beauty, but his golden feet wouldn't lift from the golden stone... He couldn't even cry out in sorrow, couldn't even shed tears, because no tears flowed from beneath his heavy golden eyelids.

So the days passed, week after week, month after month.

Exactly three years later, the fairy came running to the clearing—from flower to flower, from blade of grass to blade of grass.

"Here sits the happy shepherd," said the fairy. "He got everything he wanted. Tell me, are you happy now? Yes?"

The statue was silent.

"Oh," exclaimed the fairy, "I forgot you can't answer! Don't be angry, I'll make you a living person again for just a moment."

The fairy touched the golden shepherd with her magic wand.

And as soon as she did, Martino jumped off the stone and ran away with his alder flute and canvas bag.

"Wait! Wait!" cried the surprised fairy.

But the louder she shouted, the faster poor Martino's torn shoes flashed as he ran.

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The Shepherd from Caltanissetta

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