Sep hi d ai
At dawn and in the cold
At the edge of an old pool
That is still in the dimness
Reads the big book of despair
Now, not regretting any losses
Or the barks of the dog exited by his arrival
The first doors are widely opened
As the power coursing through his stomach.
And even joy does not stop him for a moment
As not even the convergence of imagination and facts
That instantly defeats time in almanacs
Sailing through the air that his father also breathed.
Once in a while it seems that he exists
Allowing him to look without observing
Seizing with the intention to showing
Escaping from himself, hidden deep within an idea,
Or he talks to the air that he breathes
While he endures the presence of others
Tolerating the interruption of the world
Whose duty sometimes causes the end.
If you were a buyer of time
How much could you keep in your pocket?
And what amount would you pay for the promise?
Like one who designed the mountain but then
Who perversely stole the particle attributed with courage?
When you start waiting again
Because you know what you are doing
As there has been an explosive victory
But now is only the cane that he leans on
But not depending on him
As does not depend on the message
Or the way in which it is transmitted
Just as freedom does not depend on liberators.
Developing in his persistence
And one of these days we will not see him anymore
He will leave without going
Like a cloud that passes
Leaving the momentary shadow as an indelible remembrance.