This is what happenned when we went to Venice and got caught in a storm.
(in dialect with my poetic translation)
Davide: Come stand with us under the awning, Old Venetian!
Old Venetian: Oh! I’m not afraid of the rain. Me and the water never fight. I’ll go home, I’ll change my shirt, I’ll change my trousers and that’s the end.
D: I like your philosophy.
OV: Damn straight.
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Do you see that reflection?! Oh! That rain, that light. It looks like the Old Venetian has had a few ombre (glasses of wine), but what a joyful man.
At first I thought he was angry, but then I realised that his booming voice was pushing its way through the raindrops to connect to Davide, who had shouted to him in the rain. He needed to tell him a bit of wisdom.
I’ve been thinking about the word joy lately. The word helps me gauge people. Especially in London when I go out and I see these night people. Sometimes people get stuck thinking that the only way to connect people is during dark nights, loud music, booze and cocaine. I can tell that they don’t want to admit that they’re bored, but they all have this desire to find joy. It seems like they’ve forgotten what it looks like and are too afraid to ask.
I wonder what the Old Venetian would tell them? Maybe don’t wait for the night and don’t be afraid of the grey days. Don’t fight with the elements and if you get wet, just change your clothes.
