llacs d'il·lusió

/Cold water de Tina Mammoser/

Ahir vaig tornar a caminar al mig de les oliveres, resseguint la sotil línia de guix, mirant un paisatge llunyà reflectint-se sobre llacs d’il·lusió que tothom tenim a dins. Perquè tothom, qui més qui menys, som la Celia Steimer.

Hope 

by Celia Steimer

Hope, her mind is a graveyard, her heart is an island. She and I are not good friends but I have known her all my life. She sits in my belly, hollow and distant, though her whispered words of encouragement will never comfort me. I'm onto her tricks, her false promises. Go away I tell her, I'm busy today, I've got things to do. But this acquaintance never knows when to leave. It's not a question of why she befriended me in the first place, it's more a question of why I chose to let her stay.