una noche

Si no puedo quedarme con la guitarra, dame hoy una canción. Una canción de acordes zurdos. Y si no me das el mapa, no importa, llévame ahora por una de las sendas, vamos los dos. No quiero promesas. No quiero planes. Regálame una noche. En tu habitación. Andiamo martellare. La gente, el bullicio y el calor. La conversación. Y después, si no podemos hacer la revolución, por hoy bajemos la bandera. Una noche nada más. Pongámosla sobre el colchón. Ya que no me enseñarás a hablar, al menos hoy, aquí, fai come tu voi.

:) por la alegría de este año, para los stronzi

cambiu / change

¿Cuánto lleva un cambiu? Una medalla por un segundu, una carrera por cinco años, unes canes por tola vida... Los cambios pa los que trabayamos, tienin fecha de caducidá. Y son esnidiosos. ¿Qué me diríes si, dempués del cambiu, vieres que ye too igual? Llegasti a esi llugar onde tanto naguabes tar, ganasti`l premiu que tanto preparares, y tuvisti tolos títulos que queríes y más. Agora, yes otru.
Tas sentáu al sol y nun replicaríes si tuviere orbayando. La medalla, podíes tirala al regatu y tovía mañana habría que madrugar pa dir trabayar. Y entós, ¿ a ú ta la diferencia? L`alma, la chispa, la gracia. Nun ye daqué que nos pase. El cambiu sal de dientro y poro, siempre somos distintos y siempre somos nós.

How long does a change take? A medal for a second, a degree for five years, some white hairs for a whole life... The changes we work for have a date to be preserved. And are elusive.
What would you say if after the change you saw everything is the same? You arrived to this place you longed for so much, won the prize for which you worked hard and obtained whatever diploma you wished for.
Now, you are a different person.
You are lying in the sun but would not complain if it was raining. Your medal, you could as well throw it to the stream and you would still wake up the next morning for another working day. So then, where does the difference lie? The core of it, the spark. It is not something that happens to us. The change springs from inside and so, were are always different but always ourselves.

world in motion

The running track is rounded and when you run your laps on it, it gives you the sense of being on a rhythmical circular motion around one axis.
The night is warm, the cukoos are singing and the stream is murmuring a never-ending song. All signs of civilization stay silent in a magical halt of time. Looking up at the stars, I feel my heart pounding after the exercise.
Back home for a shower, I find my father peeping into the space with his binoculars. The night is specially bright. A gift from a clear atmosphere comes through the lenses. He tells me to have a look.
There they are: Io, Europa, Ganymede, Callisto; the four beautiful moons, running their endless laps in the airless space. No oxygen for their effort, yet they revolve on and on tracing a myriad of paths around Jupiter.
And so I knew that, when I clicked my stopwatch, they still went on, restless, and then looked down at me and laughed at my laboured breathing.