Inside the Park in My Town


Walking slowly at night,
inside the park in my town,
where ponds seem to have unfathomable depths,
where paths will soon be covered
by so many people with music in their headphones,
like roads toward the next world.
I don’t want to wake up.
I don’t want to come back to life.
Each time the sun calls,
I would like to stay forever
in that warm harmony
on the threshold of a soft madness.
No one told me
my path would lead to madness—
to overturn common sense—
to make probable what I feel in my heart.
How strange to have to hide my thoughts
and try to look like many others.
I sit next to the night—
sister of my soul,
the only one with whom I can talk
without fear of being discovered.

Talking to myself,
talking to you and infinity…

I walk in the park, enveloped by the dark—
the impression of victory over the common destiny.
I look forward to the first little ray of sunshine
when I wake up and go out of my house,
like many others running in the park.

Time flows on this path that seems endless, while we preserve our dream by living apparently infertile seasons, hoping as soon this painful path soon end. Time, vain expectations, lost messages and normalcy are sensations that measure our strength in keeping our dreams alive.