Prece

Maybe I'll die on the beach
Surrounded by treacherous waves
By all the beach foam
Like a shepherd who faints
In the middle of his flock

Maybe I'll die on the street
And suddenly realize
On a cold, moonless night
Sister of the street stones
Stepped on by everyone

Maybe I'll die behind bars
In the middle of a prison
And the world beyond the bars
Will come to forget the longing
That gnaw at my heart

Maybe I'll die in bed
Where death is natural
Hands crossed over my chest
I accept everything from God's hands
But may I die in America