"Yo no protesto pormigo porque soy muy poca cosa, reclamo porque a la fosa van las penas del mendigo. A Dios pongo por testigo de que no me deje mentir, no hace falta salir un metro fuera de la casa para ver lo que aquí nos pasa y el dolor que es el vivir." (Violeta Parra en Décimas, autobiografía en versos)

jueves, 14 de junio de 2012

You don't have to

You don't have to touch my lips 
neither stare directly at me.
Before it all I felt my verses could dance.
You don't have to know who I am
to make me feel like I was going to die.

You don't need to get beyond my name,
to know how much this was meant to be.
You don't need to be more than you can
to make me feel able to swim all oceans and deep.

I didn't have to know how tasted your tongue,
to realize how easy I might give my thoughts away.
Even the blood which runs through my vains
can feel your presence and wake up my heart.

I shouldn't take this kind of romance again.
Maybe I forced it could knock on my door,
like an offer I can't refuse on my own.
I pray this is real and not just a poem instead.

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