... this disaster of my life, this exterminating blow of angels and roses,
this event that has penetrated my chest and has filled my blood with havoc
and the speech of heaven, besieges me, shakes me and hurts;
... I don't want to exaggerate what loneliness is like while teaching,
or how the stupidity of time arrives and is invading the shoulders,
arms, waist and feet stealthily, how he pulls on the couch of the madman
because there are no more birds to pass through the window and the damage is great:
an unknown and uncontrolled constellation of axes and bodies, stridency and orders;
I know that it is a moment of minimal virtue and of very little man,
a scuffle of wolves caged by and in my own cold;
... but I also know that this ruin of mine will pass, although at that resurrection
no one is summoned and the wolves howl at me hour by hour, day by day and year by year
through the tense and icy veins of the heart;
… I, I believe in the life of my besieged bones;
Where else will I build what I hope for?
Where and how, if not, freedom?
Antonio Justel Rodriguez
All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Antonio Justel Rodriguez. Published on e-Stories.org on 06/20/2021.