She talked to me about hell
As I was too young
She dared to talk about it
And I accepted all she said.
She talked to me about her life
Saying that was as life occurs
And although I listened a lot
I didn’t learn very much.
Until the years passed
I realized that I was not there
Even when the earth was created
Or when the poles were filled with ice.
I visited many writers
Magicians and priests
And forgetting myself
I made them believe the opposite.
I preserve all the marks
The ravage of errors
And with more strength I say the contrary
And making mistakes, I look for opposites rather than the fraternal.
As no one will give me back the time
I never claimed it to anybody
In this present time and in its way
Because in the past; it was perceived the future.
Useless is to be missed by someone
Even if ingratitude and incomprehension hurts
They temper you more than any book
Because one defending needs more than one who attacks.
While a child was dying of diphtheria
Another talked to me from heaven
And seeing that I smiled
He talked more and said less.
The point is different, talking doesn’t mean living
Some things change so that others remain
Quantity always counts with quality
And the immensity in each one of us, the power of runner
That only needs to be told how to do it.