22
The hand that feeds is the hand that bites.
The hand that teaches is the hand that hides.
The hand that educates is the hand that orders.
The hand that guides is the hand that terrifies.
The father's hand is the hand that hits.
The mother's hand is the hand that forgets.
The son's hand is the hand that never forgives.
The hand that disappears is the hand that enlightens.
The hand that does not exist is the hand that condemns.
The bloodstains on a white shirt last little.
The bloodstains on a white soul last forever.
23
Living in Mexico outside Mexico,
enjoying a journey I never started.
There is no returning ticket in life,
no refund in the streetcar.
24
The icy wind tears me apart,
we can live broken for one more eternity,
if we make the time stop,
during noon.
25
Many years sailing on a rusted boat, a boat I never slept about,
not a paper boat not a steam boat, a boat I never dreamt about,
just a simple step on a staircase.
26
There are thousands of ways of breaking the law in a dark alley,
ours was cracking the strong chains of distance.
27
I envy those who lie under the graves, over the comfy ground,
the absolute silence, the lack of torments and the exact company.
