Con Las Manos Calladas
José Larralde
With Silent Hands
It was never so absurd to ask
how long the return takes,
it was never so useless to return
and leave you my kiss,
what a silly question it is to ask
the moment and the hour,
what question remains for me to walk
in the voice of its shadow,
what distance was I looking for at random
please, what distance,
that you broke my flesh in the goodbye
without shouting a tear,
how long will my heart be
your heartbeat and your rage,
and the perfume that a dream left me
with silent hands,
it was never so absurd to ask
for what so much and nothing...
