Marvelous flames are the ones invading my heart,
not of passion nor love,
they are of dead,
the world is their fuel.
Life is to unearthly know I built a wall,
between fullness and myself.
We had restricted living, with time,
and we had restricted time, with the world.
In this times of isolation, of cold,
those flames heat my thinking.
Is that much the noise in my soul?
Do am I less human thanks to all that matter in myself?
I pray for silence on myself.
I pray for that entity that is called “me” to transcend.
I pray for praying.
I pray to be quit.
In this loneliness habits the color,
there is more wind,
more melodies,
more life.
Inside this solitude is where deaf, I hear,
where blind, I look,
where dumb, I sing,
where dead, I live.
The dawn and dusk has an hour:
I don’t have time,
The world doesn’t have time!
And is getting late for living,
if there isn’t hour for dying
maybe it is because time doesn’t matter:
Without time, isn’t getting late for living.
The watch is so heavy that stifles the soul.
I pray know for not living between clock hands,
for not living in the sound.
I pray for dispel the incandescent flames
and support flames of life.
Father: I don’t ask you to talk,
I ask you for me to listen.
Mother: I don’t ask your love,
I ask for me to love.
Son, I don’t ask your serving,
I beg you for letting me serve.
I beg for been human in a world without men,
without life.
I want to be worthy of humanity,
to serve, love and listen to life,
overshadowed by world men,
hidden under the rubble of the human soul.
To you, world man:
Listen the melody trapped in the sound.
Measure life with charity, not with seconds;
with sacrifice, not with claims.
To you, world man:
Jump of your buildings
and fly in the sky.
Look to the plenitude of life.
To you, world man:
Be humble, because in poverty,
you’ll be richer than in arrogance.
You have more to give in your knees than in your pockets.
To you, world man:
Love with faith, not with flesh.
Faith in your love, increases it.
Flesh only imprisons your love.
We are called the creation of the creations;
however, below us exists a lot more beauty
than in the putrid flesh we dress.
We have decomposed.
I pray for my folk,
people of world,
so we open ourselves to the truth
and close to selfishness.
Seek for straightness, for love.
Let us open our eyes,
that in the glance of God is more for men
than in the material enjoyment.
Let us pray for being of God and not of world.
