There are two men, hardened and drunk. They walk by the wet roads of tonight. They try to march like ladies for a woman that follows them glad. Was that night so violently cold, we thought the wind was howling for us.You looked at me, smiling and a desert reflects on your sight. Please, please, love, be with me along 'til I become a lady like that! She never knew but that was the fortune's show of our last.
She has now one or two friends but when she was a kid she had a cockatoo that ate granpa's cigarrettes and cursed when the priest came home. Sunny days, riding the waves, now it's all grey but I swear that when she had coffee with us, a dog on her knees, we got blue. And now she had decided, not to any of us, she's having a baby.
Al daa siguiente se levanto tarde. Despues de comer estuvo pensando en todo aquello, en las chicas de los veranos y en algunas apariciones ma¡s recientes como N., o J., X., S. y se sintio verdaderamente solo. Paso el resto de la tarde con un amigo hasta que se hizo de noche. Al llegar a casa se miro en un espejo y sonrio. Su vida le parecio transitada por decenas de cosas que caminaban de puntillas para no ser vistas.
If I could for a minute, succumb to the disaster of everyday, to let me go, let of cling to... I guess it would be possible to crash with one of the strangers that I cross by the street and have a premonition of happiness. But now, it's sure that I can't, and probably that's why one ghost comes every night to rock my stupid guilt, and why its way's a ring of fire. And when I finally sleep it's always the same dream, sand falling fast in a glass bell. The sand very clean, the glass so weak.
You might watch him, right now! At the office, when nobody's around. You might possibly see a rosary of pearls. Little tongues crossing his beard. And it's strange but confirms that old theory about time: Each day you exist you have more crowns to clean. So there he is, in the ill empty hall. Vainly trying to wipe his grieved soul. Feeling like a midnight queen of the house but knowing tomorrow it will be more than a crown. And it's strange but, at least for a while, I like that man, that fat boy that sweats and could be me.
Today is a day of disaster -I'm on the same bar. Old known people pass by, it's only my cousin that I call, as he goes to buy cigarettes and bread. And through the glass, women look upon their shoulders I should be doing something else, in these times. But, I'm sorry, it is the best I can do -I wonder if I can pay this bill- couples speak about their past. And it's hard to speak without anger, of these times, yes, it's very hard to speak without anger. But I am glad that some are together and have children for their happiness. I know I would be better doing something else, more than reading poetry. Like the girl I was here years ago with did. I'm glad some like them got married. Now through the glass, women look upon their shoulders should I be doing something else, in these times?
