The Third Man
Then the other one came; he carried an old ravaged valise
in which he hid all the ghosts of his life that they never needed
chase after him; we were in the same stuffy room and the large
animal, sewn on the carpet, was already biting our knees.
“Mother” I asked at some-time “where can we find some water
for my horse?”, “but I don’t see any horse”, “you too, mother!”
A line of candles was on both sides of the hallway and at
the far end the store that sold old music instruments that hanged
from the ceiling like destitute; the antique dealer, old and dirty,
was in the middle; he was winding the dead arm on his knees;
“they fooled us” I cried “they gave us a different house”
but no-one was around, only one hairpin on the tiles like
a little insect which flew through the window when
I tried to touch it. And the blacksmiths were heard during
the night as they prepared the nails, as if there was a Christ
amongst the three of us.
Libros Libertad 