If he breaks his back in the attempt,
if he struggles against his limits,
if he falls and gets back up,
if time sucks him in
but he resists ,
again and again
puncturing the dark
with light that only words
ignite, I don’t feel sorry for him.
No more than for you or me
with our new day,
that portion of come on, of maybe,
full of living stamens
and passing skies
searching, what now, which way.
You can read and listen to the poem in the original Spanish here.