Darse cuenta Page #7

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a terrible period.

Really terrible.

But I'm all right now. I'm all right.

Dear old man:
I'm writing to you

just to make the "other one" jealous.

I've met a pal of yours who's

come to Canada...

a young doctor who admires you.

I do it mostly to keep my

mind busy... and I like the company.

That's good.

He spoke so highly of you that

I dreamt about you last night.

You rememberwhen you gave me

that ambulance and the injection equipment?

I dreamt that you were injured

and that I saved your life.

I was very small and I was speeding

in my ambulance.

I went through such anguish!

You were dying and

nobody did anything.

I don't make much, but it helps me,

and it helps you too, of course...

I had to save you. If things had

happened in another way...

If things had happened

differently in the country...

What does Roberto say?

He had a dream about me.

If I didn't believe in the purest...

If I didn't believe in desire...

If I didn't believe in what I believe...

If I didn't believe

in something pure...

If I didn't believe in every wound...

If I didn't believe

in what goes round...

If I didn't believe in what's behind...

...becoming human in life.

If I didn't believe in he who listens...

If I didn't believe in what is painful...

If I didn't believe in what remains...

If I didn't believe

in what is struggling...

What would it be...

What would the sledgehammer be,

without a quarry.

A mix up of strings and tendons...

Ajumble of flesh and wood...

An instrument

without better brilliance...

...than tiny lights set up for a stage.

What would it be, my heart,

what would it be.

What would the sledgehammer be,

without a quarry.

A figurehead for

the traitor of applause...

One who serves the past

in new cups...

What would it be, my heart,

what would it be.

What would the sledgehammer be,

without a quarry.

A perpetuator of

the gods of decline...

A rejoicing boiled

with rag and spangle...

What would it be, my heart,

what would it be.

What would the sledgehammer be,

without a quarry.

What would it be, my heart,

what would it be.

BECOMING AWARE:

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