I recall a sincere friend
and a small suburbian street.
How many years have passed, indeed,
under the bridges1 of the railway!
But today we’re so different:
you, who live in another city2 far away,
you’ve changed, you’re so different
that I hardly recognize you.
Best friend, stay yourself!
I no longer stop to watch the sunset.
Maybe I’ve taken more than was mine3.
I drive quickly to escape from time;
I make some long distance calls to God.
But today we’re so distant!
Seeing you so serene, I ask myself4 how you do it.
You must have some hidden paradise
or you set traps for your longing.
To meet here again, you and me;
just like before, here, you and me…
Old friend, I’m going away,
but in my soul I’m leaving a space
with just a tad of melancholy.
It’s not easy to adjust your inner self:
move a piece, and the other one will fall.
But if you say that life is magic,
I believe it, my friend, if it’s you who say it.
Tomorrow we’ll be so distant!
Maybe I’ll write you a few lies and you’ll understand…
I hope that a new day will dawn,
that this tunnel will end.
To meet here again, you and me;
just like before, here, you and me…
Old friend, I’m going away,
but in my soul I’m leaving a space
with just a tad of melancholy.
Hearts forever young: you and me;
how true it is: you and me!
Old friend, I’m going away,
but in my soul I’m leaving a space,
a space for your joy.
To meet here again, you and me…
1. literal translation; normally bridges are over waters and viaducts over railways or roads2. or "town"3. or: "that was meant to be mine"4. lit. "tell me", but grammatically it sounds bad