Morbid and brightly alive things
Stupid, intriguing, irritating
Embarrassing, rough and futile
All of them pass in front of my eyes,
Between the sunrise and the sunset
Pass through the eyes without realizing
I spare my energies
I try to close my mind’s windows
For the mundane things
Like a peevish and annoyed kid that doesn’t regard
As this ungrateful world
Never regarded my poor child
Having its deepest feelings ridiculed,
On all the imaginable ways
Having nothing to run over,
Writing weak and bad-taste poems
My eyes tired of seeing nothing happen
And repeating all over in a routine,
Dramatically, drastically.
To be born. To live. To dream. And die of that.
Die to the concrete.
And live to the dream,
Where everything is perfect
And I have the situation’s control.
Where there isn’t neither stereotypes nor prejudice,
And the imaginary and illusory reality
Is simple and clear.
As a perfect spring day,
In a perfect atmosphere.
May realize the perfection and be infallibly happy.
Run a lot.
Run until my legs give up.
Stop for a while to breath
And let the air come light and warm into my lungs.
And notice that I am alive.
And be happy for that.
To go that mountain down until the river,
To drown and stay right there for hours,
Not worrying about the air.
See the fish, the trees, the flowers and the other animals
See the Sun lying on its death-bed and
Wake up really early to see it being born again
Full of its own life
Feel the rays of the sun cover my body
Warming my fingers, frozen by the daybreak
Look at the opened and radiant horizon
As a smile
And smile, maybe
Because no one could be happier than me in that morning
And after all of that,
Dance the nature’s music
Without the humane problems
To twirl, jump and
Fall down in ecstasy
And feel the gods of the time whispering by my ears
In a pleasant language
As the most beautiful melodies
To fain sleepy
And wake up tired, dirty and sweaty
In an ordinary bed
Of a inhospitable room
Look at myself at the mirror and have the sad conviction
That everything was nothing but a dream
And anyway,
Notice on my clothes a foliage as a remembrance
Of the most beautiful dream promoted by the soul
And get shocked as realize that the real continues
And that will keep passing
Cool, interesting and curious things
Morbid and brightly alive things
Stupid, intriguing, irritating
Embarrassing, rough and futile
All of them pass in front of my eyes,
Between the sunrise and the sunset,
That I’ll never realize,
Because the real world is cruel
And the body is foolish
My body is foolish
In a melancholic contradiction with the soul
That’s wonderful and intelligent
And I prefer that it keeps going like this…
So that I can fall asleep
Dreaming about finding my friend sun again,
In a perfect world
In my perfect world
In my dreams’ world
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