To C... (parte 4)

4. When memories learn to remember

In that pool table there´s a girl who looks just like you
and she wears the same clothes you used to wear
since I can recall.
I just can´t go over there and ask her...
... “Do you know her at least?”, I mean... don´t know.
I sink my nose into the glass of beer
and then I walk into the “ristorante” where you´re working now.
I get closer to the chase-bar and ask for a coffee,
with more milk than coffee... “and chuker please”.
“Anything else?”, says the waiter like if he was challenging me.
“Yes, in deed”, I speak, “I want that girl
    in the back of the kitchen bring it to me...
... the blond girl, with green eyes... watery green eyes.
Look, if they get sadder, heaven will cry.
And her smile will take your sleep for weeks.
The blond girl that, when we were children,
used to wear some blue jeans that drove me nuts.
She used to win every game we played.
She has the same name that all my problems... and all their solutions,
Her name is C... Ask her if you don´t believe me!
If she doesn´t bring it to me, I won´t pay for it.
And if you want to kick me out, well do it...
... but let her do it.
She loves it”.