The wind can keep the answers for himself

(Translated from the Spanish version 'Las respuestas que se las lleve el viento')

The answer is blowing in the wind. (Bob Dylan)

I like feeling the wind
Caressing my eyelids, my face,
Slightly raising my chest and my arms,
Encouraging me to fly.

And then I like to close my eyes,
Stop feeling my feet
Like chains tied to the ground
And dream that I fly
With the wind.

All of us learnt how to fly as children
- My father taught me -
And you never forget to fly,
Just as you never forget to ride a bike.
You only need to believe.

Bob Dylan used to say that the answers
Are blowing in the wind.
That is also why I like feeling the wind,
Listening to the whispering of the answers
That touch my ears for a second
And then fly away.

Someone who uselessly tries to capture the wind in artificial containers
Can try to capture the answers too.
I just watch them approaching and then flying away,
And I feel a bit of frenzy but I smile.
I am so happy without the answers,
With my doubts and my face against the window,
Watching how the sun rises for a new day
And the trees start to smile reflecting the light.
They smile because they do not have answers either.

The sun rises and your lips are a wound

(Translated version from 'Amanece y tus labios son una herida')

I know you still remember
That dawn that leaked between our interlaced fingers
As if we were of those who write horizons in wooden benches
As if we were of those lunatics
Who sometimes
Cry

Now
You stare at me and I tremble
I collapse on your open lips like a wound
And I scream in pain
Because your lips...
Because the wound enlarges
In every awakening without your eyes

These verses are just the starting blood

Lírica de vuelo

Estoy aún en el avión y siento la ciudad de Lund desmembrándose calle por calle, árbol por árbol, flor a flor. Y me agarro fuerte a los recuerdos, los revivo en los espejos cóncavos de mi memoria, empezando a deformarlos, a darles la forma que tendrán cuando todo parezca sólo un sueño. Te abrazo, Lund, calle por calle, árbol por árbol, flor a flor. Pero los recuerdos desbordan mi mente, rompen los espejos y resbalan de entre mis brazos. Se lanzan al vacío de las nubles blancas, del sol brillante como si no pasara nada, el tiempo. Voy dejando así en el viento un estela de recuerdos.

Las noches ya sólo vienen a pedir perdón
A arrodillarse ante mí
Y dejar escapar alguna lágrima
Por todas las cosas que dejamos sin hacer
Por todas las cosas que hicimos y ahora se van
Como si nada