ZEBRA´S LOUNGE

Broken pieces of the sun dancing in my window

In the fields the zebras lounge though they will soon be gone

I don’t mind. Take me home I don’t want to hear no more

About this boy who got lost. Couldn’t find his way across

Your burning arrows



Maybe I get the feeling that you want me to be more

Sympathetic of your misbehavior.

Well you know that I’ve been so down, I’ve been so lost

Couldn’t find my way across

the empty space the empty words.

Even though I’ve always known

You treat me wrong I can’t deny

This is where we came to die.

Finally I’ll fight your war

´cause we didn’t change so much.

After that, take me home

I don’t want to see no more

Your burning arrows

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He aprendido a nadar en seco. Resulta más ventajoso que hacerlo en el agua. No hay temor a hundirse pues uno ya está en el fondo, y por la misma razón se está ahogando de antemano. También se evita que tengan que pescarnos a la luz de un farol o en la claridad deslumbrante de un hermoso día. Por último, la ausencia de agua evitará que nos hinchemos.No voy a negar que nadar en seco tiene algo de agónico. A primera vista se pensaría en los estertores de la muerte. Sin embargo, eso tiene de distinto con ella: que al par que se agoniza uno está bien vivo, bien alerta, escuchando la música que entra por la ventana y mirando el gusano que se arrastra por el suelo.Al principio mis amigos censuraron esta decisión. Se hurtaban a mis miradas y sollozaban en los rincones. Felizmente, ya pasó la crisis. Ahora saben que me siento cómodo nadando en seco. De vez en cuando hundo mis manos en las lozas de mármol y les entrego un pececillo que atrapo en las profundidades submarinas. Virgilio Piñera
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Adiós desde nuestro Boletín

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