when i appear to you
one of these days
what is it that you want to see?
my hands are hard
my ears covered
my eyes in haze
my body in trembling
this is not what you want to see i guess
you want greek pillars as my feet
my eyes as gentle as a roman saint
my ears attentive as a echoing mountain
my body strong like an old castle
but let me tell you how is it to grieve
for someone that i have loved and lost
how is it to cry and yet not wanting to have tears
how is it to be lost and pretend that he has the mastery of the ways
that he has the manners of a man mastering the art of cultured restraint
tell me if you all know these
if you can relate to these miseries
perhaps one day when the world is ready for me
then i will show myself filled to the brim of reality
like a glass emptied of its contents glistening to the rays of light not filtered by the mist
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