For Gloria, my Hungarian friend, that I met in Cambridge
And now, Gloria
What about our lives?
It’s raining (they say it’s summer)
and our coats are at home
and we are wet
and the umbrella is small for us both
Do you remember that time?
When we were young
and you used to smoke that bloody cig
and blow the smoke in my face
(you know that I still hate it)
The tables have turned, Gloria
the ones who used to pigeonhold us are dead
Let’s take them flowers?
Let’s let them to spare.
Some silly feelings, Gloria
Some rubbish if not you and me
I know that you are with me
Wherever I go (I’ll remember you)
I’ll remember you
We walked together
Such a small town, isn’t it?
I got lost
So did you, my friend
And you told me:
“Doesn’t matter the way, my friend,
We know how to swallow the drops of water
from the sky and being so
We know how to swallow the sky itself
I have heaven inside me
And so do you”.
And I cried, but I don’t know
if rain or tears
It goes now like the Cam
but nobody can punt on me anymore
as they used to
Just simple words, but you’ve changed my life
We were then in Sidney Street
you looked up to me and said:
“I need to go now. Enjoy your life”
Enjoy your life, Gloria.
Enjoy your life, my friend
Period.
Written in an Italian Restaurant in Cambridge, in 11/7/2008, two days after she left.
