Grey

While looking at a half-grey opal
I remembered two lovely grey eyes;
it must be twenty years ago I saw them . . .

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

We were lovers for a month.
The he went away to work, I think in Smyrna,
and we never met again.

Those grey eyes will have lost their charm -if he's still alive;
that lovely face will have spoiled.

Memory, keep them the way they were.
And, memory, whatever you can bring back of that love,
whatever you can, bring back tonight.

Constantine P. Cavafy

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