You sleep pain, serene and deep.
You are lulled by hope, watch expectantly
because at the first murmur of conscience
you will wake up screaming, crying;
invading with your presence
the free space of life.
You sleep in pain,
just a few minutes....
Moments in which life
spreads its wings
and reaches height again.
You sleep pain
and you take me with you;
You embrace me while my mind
awakens to fly,
to be carried away
by the caress of the wind...
wind that invites,
that frees while redeeming guilt.
You wake up screaming pain,
breaking dreams,
tearing entrails of desire...
And I summon hope
to sing and lull you to sleep
so that when you fall asleep it releases
my dream, my life, my peace.
You are unfathomable pain,
mystery and meaninglessness.
You need the metaphor
to be talked about,
apprehended, crumbled.
You need hope
to keep you asleep.
You are pain,
the proof that we feel,
we bleed and we love.
I don't understand you pain,
nor do I invite you.
I only look at you
and I look at myself in you
from time to time.
You are pain, the bodily testimony of what my spirit longs for,
Pain in the world from which we are taking away colors, shapes and life,
Pain in the children who are robbed of the security of growing up,
To ache in men and women when we look at ourselves without looking at others.
To hurt in the infinite capacity of the human being to break and not to repair,
To hurt in the frustration of renouncing to be a witness of fairer worlds,
To ache in vulnerability, in the ways in which pain itself becomes an instrument of rupture.
To sleep the pain in the hope of repairing.
Rosy, el ruiseñor
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