I bow
before Time
To touch him with my helplessness
That gives birth to monsters in
the late hours,
Reasons for shouts and drunkenness.
And Time is passing by....
I curse the Time and his seconds
That pass like a sweet delusion,
Reaping in his way even the drops
of innocence
And the moments of virtue and hidden
sufferings.
And Time is still passing by...
I reconcile myself to the moment
that grew old from
waiting,
In my boredom I forget to laugh,
Waking up on the same road
So empty of feelings and grief.
And Time will still pass by...
I try to find my way to the center
So then to stick my roots in hell
And the seven branches in every
sky.
And I grow, and I rise...
I think so I can see...
From now on I don't know the illusory
anymore,
And the ephemeral, if it ever existed,
I will no longer remember.
I am the prime Center and the last
one
And the funerary stone is my home.
Because I am what cannot be seen,
What cannot be heard, 'cause I only
exist
In center of world, in the real
mode,
I exist without effort as it was
before
And I will be the Center inasmuch
as the world
breathes.