Cualquiera

Cualquiera el amor si nunca existió
Si nada pasa por dentro, o todo; cualquiera el dolor.
Cualquiera si no veo la madera, la fibra, la materia..
Todo ilusión.
Cualquiera los sueños si nunca fueron.
Si nunca son.

Sometimes when I think of you, I wonder about the world on the other side of the door we did not
open. Will we open that door some other time, in a far off future, another dimension than this, and
complete what we started on that luminous night? There is more to say, though we have not the
language. There is more to see, though we have not the eyes. There is more to love, though we have
not the heart. . . .