To a Friend

My friend,
when i get old…
If, i have the privilege 
to get old,
i would like to meet you.
On a sunday morning
in the cobbled streets
of our town
or, at the cafeteria
in front of the mosque,
i would like to meet you.
And i would love
for you to ask me,
“Hi there, old friend,
How have you been?”
Even if my memory betrays me
and i forget 
who you have been;
Even if i’m lost
in that vague space
of my empty mind;
I would love,
for you to stop me
and ask,
“Hi there, old friend…
How have you been?”