Árbol

The tree outside my window has grown next to me,
I've seen how its branches have reached here.
I remember it small, thin and shaken,
shaken by the wind, full of fragility.
The tree outside my window has seen me cry,
and in my ruined nights, it has helped me vomit,
it's a witness to the affection I felt for my father
and how I turned this affection into hatred.
The thickness of the years, reflected in its trunk,
makes me feel so strange because I hadn't noticed
that so much time has passed and I'm still hanging here,
in this same window, alone and unburdened.
The tree outside my window has grown next to me,
I've seen how its branches have reached here,
it seems incredible that you can still hear me,
that despite the madness, you didn't get bored of me.
If I haven't committed suicide, it's because I'm a coward,
if I haven't jumped to your branches, it's for the same reason,
I always thought that cement would be our end,
me crushed, you thirsty, turned into firewood in love.
The tree outside my window has grown next to me,
I've seen how its branches have reached here,
At what point did my soul harden?
Like your trunk, mine hardened too,
but I don't feel, I have a splinter in my heart.
The tree outside my window has grown next to me,
I've seen how its branches have reached here,
the pigeons in their nests, you give them security,
I would like to make mine but far away from here