How could I imagine that was it the end?
How, how could I know ...
What is to blame?
Or rather, yes, even better:
of who is the crime?
of us has his hands guilty?
Who among us will be forever stained
of indelible shame?
Water, forgiveness, amnesia of the time that everything flows, everything
forget: wash away the insult.
carried away everything, every ... This
is my personal descent into hell.
Who had had a premonition? A coward
fate and dumb, unable
in his megalomania
to warn us before the
endless torments that awaited us.
And now inherit pain,
as they are miserable!
But imagine how all this?
on my hands and the unmistakable signs of humiliation;
and in your hands, your consciousness faceless
signs of lying, deceit ...
and this is too much, in heaven's name, too much for both!
taciamo now and we forget our miseries, joys
our alternatives.
Time will tear away the memory
return and new creatures, like a virgin
thought never thought about it. How
that dream ... just shut up.
Fate jokes, makes fun of us
behind us, certainly to my;
deception that has strained,
plotting its undisturbed plot.
A Picasso face, eyes and tears,
on my face in the mirror;
you walk bare-headed, head-
:
your senile childishness will be omitted
and your sin is hidden, concealed not only
to my heart,
to my heart ... or thing in his stead.
How could presage an epilogue so unworthy? How
intuit prematurely?
Shhhh ... this is the moment of contrition.
This is just mundane madness!
This is ... it was love!
Silence. That now, yes, it is now silent. I spoke too
:
now hide my shameful
hands and my heart in rags ... or thing in its place ...
September 17, 2008
(this is what is left of a born story wrong from the beginning, this is all that remains of a Year of Living Dangerously, this is the diary of many mistakes by not making anything, ever again, this is the bitterness of love ...)
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