El Alpinista

I never imagined, mountain,
that one day
your rock would let me down,
the one I thought was diamond,
impenetrable and pure,
I never imagined that day
and I climbed up determined,
without vertigo, your height.

I never imagined
the exact dimension,
or the weight of my burden
that I naively wanted
to carry to the summit,
to the highest place,
and let go of my ties
once and for all.

I spared no
efforts or sacrifices,
nor risks or values,
nor possible pains;
I couldn't see
that I was naively
climbing a hurdle
of quicksand,
incapable of solidifying,
of appreciating the step
of this bold climber
who left his valley
just to kiss
your thick hair
and found in the breeze
the simplest caress.

You understood nothing,
mountain of mirages,
you didn't value the dream
of climbing your slope.
You crack, you slip away,
you shrink, you dissolve,
and I sense at your peak
that the wind little by little
is going to mess up your height,
is going to clear the mist:
descending is the risk
that the climber takes.