Here I am...
Still in this world...old and tired...waiting to be called.
Often have I wanted to flee through the damned, condemned door,
But an invisible angel touched me on the shoulder and told me severely:
No, the time has not yet come...you must wait...
So here I wait...
In Yesterday's same old suit,
Creating and recalling memories,
Examining my conscience,
Closely scrutinizing my life...
What a disaster!...Not a talent!..I lost it all!
Only my eyes can still cry. That's what's left to me...
And my hope rises to say in anguish:
The next time I will do better, Lord,
because...It's true, isn't it, that we are born again?
I believe that God always gives us another life, other new lives,
other bodies with other tools, with other instruments...
other sonorous boxes in which the immortal, traveling soul can better move,
slowly, very slowly to correct, down the centuries,
our old sins, our obstinate sins...
thus little by little eliminating the primal poison of our blood, that comes from long ago...
Time goes by and pulls it all down, transforms it all.
Nevertheless the centuries pass and the soul is elsewhere... but it is!
I believe that we have many lives,
that they are successive purgatories,
and that these successive purgatories, all together,
Constitute hell, the purifying hell,
At the end of which waits the Light, the Great God.
Neither hell...nor the fire and the pain are eternal.
Only the light burns without respite,
Enduring forever and ever..
There it is with its divine attributes,
Only my eyes are not capable of seeing it..
These poor eyes that yet can do naught but cry.
Translation from the Spanish: fts
Leon Felipe (1884 - 1968) - a popular Spanish poet.