There are afternoons that stayed
between my eyes and the night,
like a sweet memory
in the retinas.
In the depth of the eyes,
red-winged birds, other times
gray as shadows
were lost in undulations of wings
and horizons.
I was a little barefoot boy
dreamed of a pair of shoes,
one day I put on my brother's shoes
...they were my first shoes,
I slept with them thinking they were
mine... yes, he had given them to me!
It was one of those afternoons that stayed
Between my eyes and the night
I dreamed of learning to read and write
I went to the first day of school, I slept
with my notebooks and my shoes.
That afternoon it stayed between my eyes
and the night.
One day I wanted to enter the world
magic of reading and an afternoon
my older brother put a book
in my hands and he told me... Read and you will discover
the world "at half price" so that
Learn to value and care for a book.
the doors of knowledge were opened
and an intense light illuminated the shadows.
That afternoon it stayed between my eyes
and the night.
We hunted butterflies in the flowered grove, we looked for how many eyes they had drawn
on his wings, so we traveled paths
under the sun and the rains, many times
the moon accompanied us
those afternoons stayed between
my eyes and the night
Once, sitting by the side of a road
I thought of old age and I told myself... I never
I will get old.
Now I'm here wondering
Why was that the only afternoon
that didn't stay between my eyes and the night?