The Politician from Lombarda

C’era una volta oggi un uomo-politicante che scende da Lombarda a Roma.
Si imbatte in un altro uomo, lasciato mezzo morto per strada da ladroni senza scrupolo che lo avevano derubato di tutto, anche della speranza.
Il politicante lo vede, si gira dall’altra parte perché gli pare che sia di un altro colore.
Uno del suo gruppo, che non si è accorto della direzione in cui tutti i suoi, imitando il capo, volgevano lo sguardo, scorge il depredato, imbraccia il telefono e riferisce al capo che c’è un uomo per terra semi morto.
Il capo gli risponde stizzito che non gli pare un italiano e di lasciar perdere.
Uno sfigato transita poco dopo dallo stesso luogo, cura il depredato privandosi di gran parte di quello che possiede.

The English translation loses some clear reference to the Italian political and ideological situation.
The use of tenses in the Italian version is intentionally incorrect to interrupt the fluent reading and to provoke a stronger reaction.

The translation might go like this:
Once upon a time today there was a politician who descends from Lombarda to Rome. (Note: Lombardia is a North-Italian region; Rome is ion the central-south of Italy; Lombarda is not a mistake but a remembering of the name of a right wing political party. This party’s name is now free from the name Lombarda. It’s a very curious situation: this party started to ask a separation of Italy between the North and the South. Currently it has lost the name Lombarda and it is only called “Lega”. It was born as a racist discriminating party. A lot of people in Southern Italy voted it: they have a very short memory)
He runs into another man, left half dead on the side of the road by unscrupulous thieves who had robbed him of everything he had, even hope.
The politician sees him, and turns to the other side because it seems to him that he is of another color.
One of his group, who did not notice the direction in which all his companions turned their gaze, imitating their boss, sees the looted, picks up the telephone and tells the boss that there is a man on the ground half dead.
The boss replies angrily that he doesn’t think he’s Italian and to forget about him.
A loser walks by shortly after at the same place, takes care of the plundered depriving himself of more than what he owns.