De Mi Cuerpo

I approached slowly
With all the fear of not being prudent
It's not a matter of trust or suspicion
It's a matter of sense
Of guessing the wind even if it's calm
Of sensing the closure
Or the fragrance of a petal broken by the branches
Among the tamarisks, that I don't know if they were there
But that are always there
Because silence has tamarisks

Like a dog sniffing a grave
I put my nose to the past
And didn't dare on the first try
Maybe the heart didn't have time
To catch up with the thought
That's why I took a turn
It's not a matter of trust or suspicion
It's a bunch of things that years pile up in the soul
And bring calm to the troubles, and respect to the desires
I wanted to know about those houses
Not so much on their outskirts
Although on all fours the eyes lend light to touch them
The gaze can't hold all the time
That God put in a lot and a little money

How much time passes by one's side
And one doesn't get on it
Or maybe one passes by the side of time
And it watches us pass by
Or maybe it doesn't even watch us
Sometimes I think it's too vain
To believe that time focuses on us
That's why I took a turn
I shook my head as if waking up from a nap
And looked in the stubble at the reflection
That pierces the eyes like a thorn
And there I saw him, measured by things
His ranch, his horse tied to a post
A singing saddle, the bomb
Wrapped in sweet wire
And that old cart
The same one that so many times lent its passage to the roads so it wouldn't be erased or seen

That cart that took advantage of the summer rain
To bury the beds in the mud
And avoid the tire in the blacksmith
The man opened his arms
And gave me a handshake with the taste of strong wild herb
70 years of gaucho in a hug is not something you can buy at the pharmacy

We released the brakes on memories
And let them roam in the grass
Every now and then a thistle or a burr
Made us shed a tear
It's not about crying and sniffling over things, we already know without the need to open words

He told me I'm old, maybe because of the gray hair
Or because of the stride
And how could I not be if I don't remember being old tomorrow
I know my beard is dripping with frost
And piles up closure in the early morning
Of leagues and more leagues
That by walking them, are part of my skin and my arrogance

It's been three years since I put down the shovel, he said
The crowbar, the pick, and the rope
There you see California and the nipples
The old stretcher and the pliers
Rheumatism left me in the town with a cold sweat on my back
I live, and I live to see how the birds and the sun mix among the branches
And not to die, I get mixed up taking care of a bull on some ranch
My horse, ha, my horse is a luxury and accompanies me so as not to waste any job

Just being a man, I know quite a bit
There's no evil that lasts 100 years or a Christian who can endure it
That's what those who know say, and it must be true
100 years is a long time to start investigating
I don't know if what's happening now will happen tomorrow
Or if it happened a long time ago in this same place

How to know so much about before and guess tomorrow
If now that I am, I see it and don't even know where to start
The world walks so much without moving from where it is
Ha, I think I already know enough just being a man
I know I'm a crack where others spy
Their own old tiredness of looking for where to grab

The man spies on life while watching himself pass by
Because life stays and it's the man who goes
There's no time that ties life not even for a little while
When it comes out from within, there's no use looking back
I don't know if the beyond has a horizon
If it does, it must be different, it must be here
Looking far is so easy that it's embarrassing to look
The thing is to look close, see and be able to find
Sometimes a man also finds by chance
Kisses, caresses, and joy and sometimes just trouble
Looking far is very easy because one can miss
Without fear of being reproached by those who usually reproach
Growing old knowing how one managed to arrive
Is like living twice
Just remembering is enough
Sometimes one believes to know the mysteries of life
Of what happens and is forgotten and what comes after
One believes to be able to analyze the thickness of man with his offal
His joy and his suffering

But one cannot see more than the lump of yarn
And it even seems simple to be able to unravel it
But it starts to have no way to grab the end
When the turns come together and penetrate without yielding
One walks through life and gathers school
Passions that sneak in, to be weight on the climb
That soon the afternoon goes by the bottom of the road
That soon the evening comes and the end of my destiny
That soon the night falls and even if you're prepared
That soon it gets dark even if you're prepared
What a black night the night of the one heading towards oblivion
What a black night the night of the one heading towards oblivion
Who puts a price on the sky, sky of the defeated man
Who puts a price on the sky, sky of the defeated man
When death asks how much it cost to live
When a man cries alone, looks at God and that's why
The tears of one alone are worth what the universe is worth
That soon it gets dark even if you're prepared
That soon it gets dark even if you're prepared
What a black night the night of the one heading towards oblivion
What a black night the night of the one heading towards oblivion