The Road to London Adriano Bulla

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2 From the Chapter The Garden and the Key Thus talking, hand in hand alone they passed On to their blissful bower; it was a place Chosen by sovereign planter, when he framed All things to man s delightful use; the roof Of thickest covert was inwoven shade, Laurel and myrtle, and what higher grew On firm and fragrant leaf; on either side Acanthus and each odorous bushy shrub Fenced the verdant wall. Thus said unanimous, and other rites Observing none, but adoration pure, Which God likes best, into their inmost bower Handed they went; and, eased the putting off These troublesome disguises which we wear, Straight side by side were laid; nor turned, I ween, Adam from his fair spouse, nor Eve the rites Mysterious of connubial love refused: i I met Leo once after the summer holiday. Then autumn came; its chilly northern winds swept away the colours of summer, leaving an empty sky. School had started again, Pablo, Daniel, Sam and I were still seeing each other for the usual cocktails of booze, weed and seventies music. Pat and I were on speaking terms again. Since that day we d bumped into each other, we had started speaking, we went for a pint together a few times and I had met his new friends, though I didn t become close to them. He was now hanging out with a crowd of wealthy bohemian would-be artists and musicians; he d become a regular at the most fashionable places in Milan, on the Navigli, in Via Magenta and Brera. There was a sea of differences now in our

3 lives and what had happened between us became taboo: no mention or allusion to it ever again passed between us: we d said sorry to each other; it was all we needed. Our lives had parted, yes, but in parting we stayed together. A word, a look, a smile were enough to cross that sea of differences; a word, a look, a smile was all we needed to know we loved each other still and forever. It was our last year at secondary and we were both to go to university together: he would read classics, I medieval studies. The weather allowed us to sit on the pavement. Pat and I were having a pint outside a bar in Brera. We d been talking, as we had of late so often done, about Joyce, by then my favourite novelist. Milan suffered from the same disease as Dublin: paralysis. You could see it painted on people s faces: an army of grey clones each staring at their feet. A provincial metropolis whose Renaissance spirit lay under the ashes of industrialisation. A shithole. So, Pat, tell me, what are you going to do after uni? I don t know exactly. What can you do with Latin? Work in publishing? Teach? Never been one for teaching. You? I ll leave Milan, I ll go to London. To do what? To teach English. Like Joyce. Come home Joyce sort of thing.

4 You re a nutter! So was Joyce! That s why you ll make it. Not sure about that. You ll make it and Pat went silent. He looked into the distance, in his dark eyes a bright glint: the missing stars in the black Milanese sky. Remember his voice was deep, remember, whatever happens whoever you go with, they re just borrowing you from me. You re mine forever. Immense skies and immense prairies, where my melancholy runs sweet. ii Time has stopped. The Sun is still. All around me is light and air. I m lying down on the grass: emerald blades cut the empty sky. There s nothing above me but light. Soft beneath me, the earth is warm, motherly. The birds have stopped singing in adoration pure. There s nothing to wait for, not even dawn, nothing ahead. I stand up; I am light. The horizon s clear. Nothing between me and him, nothing beyond him. I can see now, I can see what I couldn t see before. I can see the loss of land is the gain of sky. Limegreen turns, and, for a moment, is aquamarine. That is the moment. That is the budding. End meets end, and it s a new beginning. Petals peek and hide, wink at me and shy away. They re spots, they re hues, each with its own moment. Dotted in the grass they meet the sky and for a second change their shades. I am light. I run, I run to meet the horizon. I run to meet the sky, I run, I run and I am free.

5 [...] It was a lovely night, my Dear. The music was so bright. I met you at the green pub; we had a few drinks. You were in good spirits. I like you when you re happy. You kept popping up and disappearing. You played pool. I watched you lose and lose again. But you won. In the end, you won much more than a game of pool that night. Your eyes were radiant, wide, like cornflowers in the Sun they pierced my soul, and I changed hue. Time will pass; the world will change. Pain will follow bliss; we ll be distant one day. One day, the world will come between us. But this moment was forever, beyond time, beyond the horizon, the blue of your eyes will meet the green of mine, and kiss, and change hue. For a moment, for a moment. And when my eyes will close forever, your blue will be with them. We left the club, went to the cash point. The air was still, the music gone. We walked through time; we strolled against time. We had a chat with Joe outside the club. He had a sweet smile. You ran, free, you ran to the petrol station. The machine got stuck. We always get it stuck. On the way back, your voice was soft, you whispered, slow, to me, words I did not understand. Yet I didn t need to. What they said, I didn t understand: I don t care what the world says. We stopped. You picked up a daffodil for me.

6 i John Milton, 1667, Paradise Lost, Book IV, ll and ll ii Lucio Battisti, I Giardini di Marzo, 1972.

Unit 2. Spelling Most Common Words Root Words. Student Page. Most Common Words

Unit 2. Spelling Most Common Words Root Words. Student Page. Most Common Words 1. the 2. of 3. and 4. a 5. to 6. in 7. is 8. you 9. that 10. it 11. he 12. for 13. was 14. on 15. are 16. as 17. with 18. his 19. they 20. at 21. be 22. this 23. from 24. I 25. have 26. or 27. by 28.