Todo el mundo tiene
Tabaré Cardozo
Everyone has
Everyone has, had, has or could have had.
Everyone has, almost everyone usually has.
An immigrant grandfather and a friend who left,
a hairdresser aunt, an end-of-month account,
an umbrella that is not theirs, a sister to take care of,
a story of Martians and a fishing rod.
And that fat old uncle who doesn't stop snoring.
A father-in-law who adorns himself and starts reciting,
a seditious relative and a military relative,
a cousin who breaks up, a family quarrel,
a lying godfather, who takes you to debut.
And a religious aunt who doesn't stop praying.
Everyone has...
A neighbor who died in the wound,
a story of a cousin who couldn't be a champion,
a friend who made money and stopped greeting,
and a drunk, old and pichi who is crazy about studying.
And an infallible superstition that doesn't stop failing.
The neighbor who organizes the Tupperware meeting,
a brother-in-law who gets drunk and dresses as a woman,
karate nephew, a carnival love,
several nights of failure and one night of a gallant.
And a damn boss who doesn't stop stealing.
Everyone has...
Half a clover in a book, a trophy in a corner,
several fallen idols, a letter in a drawer,
a hug that doesn't reach for the one who is no longer here,
a wound in the side and a flower in the buttonhole.
And that stubborn tear that doesn't stop bleeding.