I go up to silence like an abandoned altar
in the middle of a jungle that doesn't exist,
from there I show my teeth in a painful smile
and for that very reason happy
I embrace the corners of the world devoid of corners
and they give up, without courage, their spaces made of time and lime,
they will not come my mother repeated to me when I cried terrified
looking at the window of the room,
They won't come, he repeated, caressing my ears so I could sleep,
of that silence cooked in the centuries of human mythology
I speak today, here, now, in this prayer that is clearly incomplete,
Yes, mother, I mean, the days will come when no tree,
no moon, no love defies me, but it doesn't matter,
standing at the same altar I will have earned my bread, my ration of
existence and everything else is this rain
that rises from the earth like an invincible plant
towards the musical and silent night.