Thursday, December 8

I know a gypsy girl


I knew a gypsy girl,
when I was in Athens working at a restaurant.
I was young, and she was younger,
a child.
She would come to see me
She called me her friend.
She showed me the secrets of that city.
Behind little doors and under little tires,
where she played, and worked, and spent her days.
Treasures of glass that she held dear
The secret spaces, where the world was hers
Where the sun reached and flowers grew.

She gave me a gift once.
With pride and happiness, and the excitement of a child, she brought me a present.
I took it and gladly I said thank you.
After all, that girl truly was my friend.
Behind the doors of closed closets and under little tires, where purity grew and flowers blossomed,
she liked me and we were friends.

What she gave me was a skirt, a mini skirt,
of such ‘bad quality’ that it looked like something a street-walker might wear.
I knew I would never put it on,
but I smiled
and I said thank you
and I was glad for the gift.
But I have lost that gift. I probably gave it away, since I knew I would never put it on.
And how ashamed I am now!
And how I regret that now!
How my memory of her that is happy, is mixed with sadness, and it bring me tears.
How now, I would give my whole closet full to have that skirt again,
And I would wear it with pride.

2.
I saw a gypsy girl once
When I was in Athens working at a restaurant.
A young woman, a small little lady
With a bucket of roses resting on her hip
hugging it with her arm for some comfort some support.
With hair bleached the color of gold
A young girl growing up
A young fresh face

I was working, serving at the square
I saw her standing there, facing an older man
He sat across her with some others
He was very very nervous
He was very very insolent
He leaned back in his chair, he was very stiff
He played aggressively with his kompoloi to look calm
He looked very upset.

He said to her: ‘I don’t know you. I don’t know her. I have never seen you before’
His voice was loud
It wanted to affirm
It wanted to push her
It wanted everyone to believe with certainty.
He didn’t want that moment between them to seem at all intimate.

She teased him. She stayed there and playfully teased him
With a smiling face.
Wasn’t it because she was shocked?
Wasn’t it because she felt the frost?
And the frost coming over her stopped her?
She smiled but wasn’t she sad?  
In that moment, wasn’t she learning,
That a man’s lie can be so very hard?

I should have hugged her, I should have cried for her her tears
I left her there, in all the violence, with only her bucket to hold her
(And those tears I never cried drown my liver)

How can I forget that?
People, how can we forget her?
How can we forget that?
Do you think that any house you build, however high,
Any carpet you lay,
Any silly old thing you get,
Any success you have,
Do you think that might delete this MINUTE?

Do you think you can get far away,
Do you think you can wash that?

3.
look up, and look at the sun. It still
shines!
You will be six feet under.
That is, with six feet of soil above you.
And you will hear the bacteria of the earth speaking.
They will say: ‘we saw this little girl, she roamed in the city and she collected treasures. In her memory she kept all the gifts, all of the treasures that God let her see!’
And you will say: ‘When!?, Where?!, I never saw that’
And you will say: ‘I had my own gold’
And they will say: ‘we had that for breakfast’

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