Everybody knows

Perhaps at the end of the day
Even the trophy is not what you expected
Or the person to whom you thought to offer it
Is not alive any more.

Existing the possibility that the symbols
Have all been wrong
That the wine is not more than wine
And the blood a simple game of matter.

When it is impossible that you use words
Expressing feelings unknown to you
Repeating the acquired habit to say again
Like the words said by someone who learned before you.

Who would wonder about perspiration on your forehead?
Being enough to feed entire families
Barely sufficient to survive another day
While on a lusty face, is handy work not reflected?

Perhaps it has been a great mistake
Or maybe it has not existed
Perhaps thinking on it can already be proper
Or the final error that ends and feeds the others.

And amongst many things
You were gathering for your old age
That during many, many nights
Will they read you the story of your life?

Perhaps you have read or listened in passing
That everything is possible if you really want
But if you did not understand the whole
Either truth or love will not be possible to attain.

However, the board is always in the middle of the game
You live before and after playing
Where to win or lose mean the same
Distracting from the essential act of participating or not

In the great secrecy of actions and non-actions
Managing those who skim the consciousness
Those things that happen but should not occur
And those not occurring in spite of good intentions
Which do not reach fulfillment and everybody knows why….