When I found this old photo, with a strange astonishment I realized that the young man in this picture is dead.
I had not thought of him for such a long time.
He died about ten years after I took this photo.
I had not stayed in touch with him.
Somebody told me he died.
The most surrealistic thing (what a strange and intricate labyrinth is our life)
is that the Irish hat he’s wearing in his snapshot,
for reason I cannot explain, remained to me
and I have found it recently in a cardboard box in the upper shelf of my wardrobe.