Therefore, you have to get used to it, he was saying,

to always find new excuses

not to deny anything. Your denial

would be, first of all, denial of yourself

and they’re very careful with your mistakes.

They even suspect your approval

and your enthusiasm or your serenity.

Then, what could we do, he asked, ah, yes,

we’ll occupy the least possible space? Then, again,

they see our moderation as secrecy,

they find some conspiracy in the afternoon reverie

when you smile at a star that believes in you

when you stand firm behind a certain memory or

this chair, where love was sitting moments ago,

and you caress the back of the chair. What could

we do, he said, and hid his whole face behind

the newspaper.