Another birthday, caro mio! Hopefully you're not spending it with piccolo Niccolo.
Now that my leadership has once again been spurned (thanks in good measure to caro Nicolas and his German innamorata Angela), I am free, free as the birds in the heavens. The country will soon cry out for me, but I won't listen. I long to see you, caro. I long to touch you and make you gasp and cry out with delight. You know that all the farfalle have meant nothing to me. I send white roses only to you. When can we meet?
Happy Birthday, caro Dominique! I know you'll want to celebrate the day with your bella sposa, but we must find a time to meet and celebrate your birthday in our own fashion. Perhaps I could offer you the gift of a quiet weekend in Scotland? I have a piccolo castello there, which no one knows about; it's too late to show you the wildflowers in the meadow, I'm afraid, but a long walk in the cold air, followed by drinks in front of the fire, would do both of us a world of good....
*finishes writing and addressing the card, posts it, and then calls his favourite Parisian florist and orders bouquets of white roses to be delivered to Dominique*
*waits for presents and good wishes to come flooding in*
Elisabetta was certainly not annoyed with me, as those lying reporters are saying. She knows that we Italians are a big-hearted people and we do everything on a grand scale, even talking. Why else are all the world's greatest opera singers Italians? *sniffs* If poor Giorgio had still been with us, he probably would have been there rubbing her shoulders, wouldn't he, Angie, and then what would people have been saying? Why do Americans have to touch everyone, anyway? La bella signora Obama was completely rude, but does anyone say anything about that? No! Niente! Only poor Silvio is castigated and chastised by the world's press. And then there was Niccolo piccolo gloating and winking at me throughout the entire G20 meeting.... Certo, Nico, certo, I know exactly what you've been up to, don't think I don't! *says something unprintable below his breath in Italian*
Non voglio parlare oggi....
AGI) - Milan, Jan. 18. - An emotional Silvio Berlusconi made his way to his mother's house in Milan. She has been sick for some time: "She is passing away, but in a serene manner. There is always one of us by her side. She is still telling us beautiful things: 'don't worry, I'm certain that I'm going to paradise, I will keep on protecting and praying for you. Such is life and I've made it to the end: I have led a difficult life but received ample repayment". Speaking of his 97-year-old mother, Berlusconi said that "She is the one that gave us support and this shows you what kind of a person she really is.
She is passing away by the day, but she is serene".
Message on card included with two dozen white roses delivered to a certain Paris address:
Buon cumpleanno, caro Dominique! I wish you a beautiful birthday. Will you celebrate quietly with your wife and family, I wonder, or will there be a great party in your honour?
It would be good to see you again and to catch up on your news. Shall we plan a weekend visit sometime soon?