Efímeros versos…

Para mi maga…

Somos tanto y somos tan poco… Perdemos tanto tiempo haciendo sin hacer… Que cuando encontramos algo que verdaderamente importa nos sorprende, nos deja perplejos… nos llena de ilusión… ese algo del que están hechos los sueños…

No nos damos cuenta de que somos ciegos… hasta que de repente se hace la luz… y resulta que sabemos leer… Porque somos eso, efímeros versos…

Adoro estar contigo… Adoro ser contigo…

Maybe, in some distant place, everything is already, quietly, lost. Or at least there exists a silent place where everything can disappear, melding together in a single, overlapping figure. And as we live our lives we discover-drawing towards us the thin threads attached to each what has been lost. I closed my eyes and tried to bring to mind as many beautiful things as I could. Drawing them closer, holding on to them. Knowing all the while that their lives are fleeting… knowing all the while that their lives are fleeting.