To César Vallejo

— What if after all those prayers I succumb to my agony?

What if all of a sudden it moves

as it was foreseen         as they said it would

if after moving once and for all

the rock inhibits                       keeps out                     returns to itself

refuses to fall down further into the void’s bottom

and then break into pieces and burst

and turn into a mess of tenderness and the shadow of the swirl woman?

— Nothing, nothing! How soon it came to an end

how fast how brief was this truce and then you left!

Never never important important thank you thank you.

— What if after the masses lost their future

and the poor were left without a defender        suddenly in the dark

the perfidious snake responsible for the massacre leaves the scene?

— Nothing, don’t even dream     don’t blow in the ashes     it is dangerous.

— What if, judging by it’s own mistakes

humanity decides not to get married?

Nor study nor suffer a lot nor spend the whole night awake

waiting for the children who will never come back

from the party              from the field                from the war?

— How scaring then     what an abyss  the lift shaft!

— What if to the sound of so many coins

shaken in the coffer would be added

the sound of only one more coin pure and simple

as Unamuno used to say or a coin in fashion

capable of buying everything and then swallow it

and this was the end     no more coins  ‘imagine no possessions’?

— No   no        how macabre   don’t be so fool!

What’s wrong with you?

— What if it comes out

in a majestic maneuver sanctioned a long time ago

not as fast as it used to be        not accurate anymore

what if it escapes from the hole of pleasure and pours out

the abominable shipwreck of all the words?

What if I lose my voice? And I how can I kiss you

if I lose my voice?        If I lose my stomach?

How will I eat without storm troops or the fire brigade

or hot water or matches or the sad bugle call?

Or how can I swallow a photograph of my tradition

after a whole afternoon spent in the cemetery?

Or how can I knock this Lenin as tall as a tower

a lion like the tigers       a born fish that does not die

who can assure me now that Lenin will still remain in the air

when I recover my breath?

— What if it moves then           it comes out     my existence?

—  No  what a mess     what a pity,

what an unforgettable game it was

so how nice it could be if it comes out

and nothing                  wrong              happens.